


Good Endings Only

by Chaussette_et_Chaussures



Series: Good Ending Only Universe [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Alien Biology, Emotional Growth, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Consent, Infidelity, Interspecies Awkwardness, Oral Sex, Other, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Penetrative Sex, Quadrant Confusion, Reader is not MSPAR, Reader's gender is not specified, Romantic Comedy with a hint of hurt comfort, Size Difference, discussions about mental health, human/troll romance, reader is not referred to with gendered pronouns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 37,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaussette_et_Chaussures/pseuds/Chaussette_et_Chaussures
Summary: You've always considered yourself a relatively easy going person, your students seem to think so, as does your loving boyfriend. So when you sign up to tutor a rich kid in geometry to make a little extra cash on the side, you had certainly not expected to hate the man who greeted you at the door.You hate him. You hate him to the point of violence._____Reader takes a job tutoring Eridan and things go so wrong and so right.
Relationships: Cronus Ampora/Reader, reader/oc
Series: Good Ending Only Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059218
Comments: 55
Kudos: 98





	1. In Which You Meet the Slimiest Family Imaginable

**Author's Note:**

> Eyyyyyyyy so this is by far the longest thing I've written to date. I have most of chapter two done. This should be 3-4 chapters.... I was hoping to have this up a lot sooner but life lmao. This is my first time writing smut, but that's going to just be the last chapter so it'll be a while

Putting yourself through grad school was tough even when the university was paying you a stipend for teaching lab classes for freshmen. You made barely enough to cover your crappy apartment and between grading papers and working on your degree you had to admit getting another job was just about out of the question. Your social life was nearly nonexistent, your sleep schedule was poorer than you were, and your students’ lab reports were more than a little tedious to sort through. God so many of these assholes had bad handwriting.

But your fridge was just a little too barren for comfort, and your steady diet of ramen noodles and nicked food from the dining hall wasn’t doing anything for your health…. If you started developing scurvy the medical costs would break you for sure.

So with a heavy heart you had signed up with one of those fancy tutoring sites that rich kids trying to get into prestigious universities relied so heavily upon. The work load would be easy, just a few hours a week, and the payout may not have been the greatest, but it would be enough to put something more than a heavy dose of sodium and carbs into your body… hopefully.

God you were hungry for real food… fancy roasted potatoes with fresh herbs and some kind of fresh produce and maybe portabello mushrooms sounded good right about now.

You sighed, willing your hot pepper ramen to taste like something other than spicy salt noodles while you waited for someone to be assigned to you. After a few hours you finally gave up. You supposed it was only natural given the local high schools had only just begun classes. But it still stung as you graded your students’ papers… maybe one of them would be nice and give you a gift. Your birthday was coming up soon. Not that they knew it….

And it wasn’t like your boyfriend could afford to do anything fancy for you either given he was halfway across the country and somehow poorer than you were. Most of the money that wasn’t spent on groceries or school or rent you squirreled away so you could visit him.

You groaned and laid back on your futon.

It took a full week before you were contacted by anyone about the tutoring position. A sophomore at a highschool just a few towns over wanted help with his geometry course. You could already taste that easy money as you read his name on the screen. Ampora, Eridan.

Okay, maybe not so easy money. When you exchanged emails with them Eridan was more than a little condescending and elitist; Outright refusing to meet you at the library, or the university campus, or even the cushy private school he attended. He’d asked what GPA you’d graduated with, but seemed to tone his crazy down when you’d told him your credentials, giving you his address and the time he was willing to meet you. But for what he would be paying, you couldn’t really complain too much.

So when you’d arrived at his house in your beat-up sedan (just a few years younger than you were) a few days later, and you were met with the most ostentatious abode you had ever seen you silently resolved to do whatever you had to do to make sure this partnership worked.

You knocked on the door with the brass knocker, standing there awkwardly in your good khakis and a dark blue button up while you waited for an answer.

It took about a minute, not that you were counting of course (you definitely were), for someone to open the door. Grey skin and a sharky smile was not what you were expecting.

Oh, this was a troll household.

They were trolls.

Not that that changed anything. You weren’t put off by it, but they tended to mostly keep to themselves after first contact a few years ago. Eridan referring to his _hive_ made much more sense in retrospect.

And you weren’t going to lie, the troll standing before you was an attractive specimen. Tall, violet eyes framed by dark lashes, high cheekbones, and proud orange horns that swept back along his head like a pair of twin lightning bolts. The greaser aesthetic he was very obviously emulating was a nice touch; His dark hair slicked back, an unlit cigarette held between his pretty lips. He let out a low whistle, teeth perfectly even and symmetrical, and when he spoke it invoked the most violent fight or flight response you had ever felt.

“Well what do we have here?” He said with the worst approximation of a Brooklyn accent you had ever had the displeasure of hearing. Sleazy was the only descriptor you could think of when he shamelessly raked his eyes down your body, an unsubtle, lecherous action that left you feeling nothing less than violated. “I must have died and gone to human heaven because all I can see in front of me is an angel. Or did you fall to Earth for being very naughty because babe I can help you with that.”

You blinked, speechless as he continued with his awful, awful pickup lines.

“Toots,” You could feel your soul leave your body. “Where have you been all my life? It’s like I’ve been searching for you everywhere and now here you are at my door in all your human glory. Did it hurt when you fell?” He placed a cold hand on your arm, his unwelcome familiarity just as cloying as his tacky cologne. If this was Eridan you were going to kill yourself. “From your human heaven straight into my arms?”

You liked to think you were an easy going person, easy to get along with, not particularly judgmental or anything, but the wave of loathing that hit you immediately upon meeting the creature before you was palpable. The way he tripped over his V’s and W’s would be sort of cute if everything he said wasn’t pure trash. God you hoped this wasn’t Eridan…. No amount of money was worth tutoring this greasy, slimy boy.

“What’sa matter, kitten, cat got your ton-”

“ _Cronus! Oh my GOD_ _!_ Are you _really_ HARASSIN my TUTOR right now!?” A shrill cry from somewhere behind him echoed. _Oh thank god._ “Get out of HERE!” You saw a much younger looking troll with similar horns and glasses and a purple streak in his hair holding a baseball bat. “Get out! Get Out! _Get OUT!”_ He brought the baseball bat across the older troll’s back, whacking him repeatedly.

“Ow! Ow! Okay I’m going, Jeez!” He started moving away from the door, but not before turning back to look at you one last time. “Don’t worry babe I can take another pounding later tonight, if you know what I mean.” He gave you a suggestive wink. You had never felt such a potent urge to punch someone in your life, and that was saying something. And just when you had almost started feeling bad for him. _Almost._

“ _Oh my FUCKIN GO_ _D!_ Stop being creepy for _one minute in your_ _c_ _oddamn life!_ This is why _Nobody_ _FUCKIN_ _LIKES_ _YOU!_ ” Eridan shouted after him, positively seething. If the other troll cared, he didn’t show it. Your charge turned to you, face contrite. “I’m sorry you had to see that whole situation.” He huffed, gesturing vaguely in the direction the greasy slimeball went.

You blinked a few times, pushing down your disgust before nodding. “It’s okay. I’m ready whenever you are.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Eridan was simultaneously a bright kid, a huge dumbass, and a monumental racist (not that you understood most of cultural specifics of what he said about the “hemospectrum”, but it was impossible not to understand the intent behind his words). You gave him a few test questions to determine where his knowledge-level was, walked him through his homework, and helped him organize his notes in the best possible way to study. The same sort of stuff you would use whenever one of your students would come to you asking for help during office hours.

But despite the rocky beginnings, his elitist demeanor, and the distinct feeling that you were being constantly watched (you could swear you saw Cronus more than once in your periphery, and sometimes a white creature gliding around the halls), you counted the session as a win when he said that you were to meet him again here in his hive the following week, and paid you up-front in cash.

Yes.

Oh _hell_ yes.

You were celebrating tonight.

Was it wise to spend almost the entire thing on food? Probably not, but a decently stocked fridge felt so worth it that you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had orange juice. The not-from concentrate kind (Still off-brand though, you weren’t a bougie bitch).

You were about to accept a new assignee, but the other TA emailed you saying they wouldn’t be able to keep working with one of his lab classes due to a family emergency meaning that the university would rope you into taking on his lab class. That was another at least twenty students for almost no increase in pay. It was in your contract after all.

At least the times wouldn’t conflict with your sessions with Eridan so you could still keep that up. So you swallowed down your frustration. Everything was going to be fine. You were gonna make everything work.

“Hey kitten, back for more?” Of course Cronus was the one to greet you when you knocked on the door. “Couldn’t resist coming back? Can’t say I blame ya chief, you got me feeling all kinds of red.” He gave you a lopsided grin, waggling his eyebrows and resting on the door frame, blocking your entry. “I know you’re here to help Danny with his math or some shit, but think about how fun it’d be to give me some lessons on your human biology.”

His euphemism was very thinly disguised, but given that your degree was literally in microbiology and his wording was ambiguous you figured you could probably con him out of a few hundred bucks to give him an actual lesson in biology. You were about to answer him, but he beat you to the punch.

“And by biology I mean getting down to concupiscent business. You, me, and a bucket.” God you hate him. You hate him so much. You hate him to the point of violence. And something very petty and angry rears its head. “Don’t worry babe we can take it slow, make a night of it-”

"I'm not here for you." You interrupted him, keeping your face as level and disinterested as possible. “Where is Eridan?”

Cronus faltered for a moment, a scowl twisting his his pretty lips, clicking his tongue he stepped away from the door. “Way to ruin a fucking mood.”

And that disgusted petty creature in you couldn’t help but mutter, “It was ruined the moment I saw your face.”

You crossed the threshold and headed to their dining room where you sat down and prepared for the tutoring session, the greasy little sea-troll following closely behind you.

"I have to admit I wasn’t really feeling a pitch way about you, but doll you know I can make it work.” He sat next to you, far, far too close. His hand on your shoulder, fingers uncomfortably close to your neck, was the last straw.

You had no idea what sort of stupid troll shit he was talking about, but you wanted no part of it.

“I am already happily in a relationship.”

“Sounds to me like you have-”

“ _CRONUS! Stop hittin on my tutor!_ They ain’t interested in your desperate bass!” Ah, your classist little gremlin of a charge to the rescue. He shoved Cronus out of the seat before claiming the spot as his own . “Go away! You’re distractin’ us from highly _important_ business. Not that you could ever understand what _that’s_ about.”

Cronus glared up at him from the floor before standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I hope you know you’re at the top of the list of the objectively worst people I know, Eridan. The absolute peak on that monumental list you bulge-blocking lil shit.”

“The feelin’s mutual.”

You elected to stay silent, agreeing with both of them. These two were objectively some of the worst people you had ever met, and if one of them wasn’t actively paying a large sum of money up-front to do something you were very good at that was relatively simple, you would never willingly interact with either of these two assholes.

But eventually Cronus conceded and slunk away to a couch in the next room, and though it was facing away from the room you were in, you were pretty sure he was still watching you like a shark… but like a shark that was also a fuckboy.

A Sharkboy.

No… That was stupid.

You’re pretty sure Sharkboy was a good, wholesome lad unlike the degenerate in the other room.

A Shuckboy.

Yes, truly a title to encapsulate the awful creature that was Cronus Ampora.

Shuckboy; an unpleasant word for an unpleasant man.

Your sessions with Eridan became a steady weekly gig. Every Thursday at 5:30 in the afternoon you would meet him at his home. He made sure to get you a copy of the syllabus so you had a basic outline of what he would be learning each week in class so that you could come prepared for what he would likely need. You in turn made sure to download worksheets and diagrams to help him in your sessions.

Eridan was a gross little racist troll, but he was motivated to learn, and once he stopped talking and actually started doing his work and paying attention, he wasn’t wholly bad.

You could not say the same for Cronus.

You didn’t know if they were siblings or if Cronus was his caretaker, or like just some weird cousin or unrelated adult (highly unlikely given how similar they were down to the dimple on their left cheek when they smiled) who lived with him. But you weren’t about to ask. Mostly because you didn’t really care what their relationship was, but also because you didn’t want to know a single thing more about either of them than necessary. You didn’t have time or the emotional energy to get involved with their personal lives. They were just people who paid you (a hefty chunk of money) to do a job.

“You know I’m a bit of a musician.” Cronus greeted you when you knocked on the door, long grey arm barring your entrance as he leaned just a little too casually against the doorframe. Lopsided grin showing off his sharp, perfectly even teeth.

“Oh?” You barely managed to feign interest; the sound of acoustic guitar and indie ballads with faux deep lyrics about manic pixie dream girls already hitting your ears.

“Yup, one man band. Do all my own music by myself.” He handed you a business card with the URL to his soundcloud and you almost laughed, holding it in except for a single derisive snort. It was laminated, shiny with a headshot of his smug face and a set of headphones. Oh god, if he was a soundcloud rapper you might actually lose it.

A soundcloud rapper with a business card.

“I have quite the following if I do say so myself, but you could always be my number one fan.” Cronus waggled his eyebrows.

You honestly wondered if he realized just how ridiculous he was.

Every single goddamn thing you learned about him just increased his mockability. You weren’t even sure that was a word but nothing else could fully encompass how much you wanted to needle this fuckboy.

God you and Phil were gonna have a field day with this when you got home. Maybe make a Cronus Music drinking game. Take a shot every time he plays the same tired set of chords that the Lumineers do.

“I can’t imagine your number one fan ever meeting you for some reason.” You flashed him a dry smile as his eyes widen, gears in his head parsing your meaning then pouting.

“You should really be grateful y’know, Chief.” His lip curled back into a sneer. “I’m offering you a coveted spot in my entourage. Do you know how high on the hemospectrum I am? I’m an Ampora, I have royal blood flowing through my noble veins.”

“And yet you have a business card for your soundcloud account.” You didn’t drop your sharp smile. “Now, are you going to let me in? I have a _real_ job to do.”

You stared him down like you would an unruly student, his bright violet eyes locked with yours and you would be damned if you were gonna be the first to blink. After about fifteen seconds he cracked and looked away, gnawing at his lower lip, cheeks dusted a light violet.

“You’re kind of a bi-”

You pushed past him as Eridan strolled into view, and you wondered if this was going to be a routine: Cronus greeting you at the door while Eridan took his sweet time to prepare like some sort of diva…. You really hoped not.

Eridan seemed distracted today, only half listening to your explanation of the Pythagorean theorem, pencil tapping a steady rhythm on the table. Every single time you would say something he would sigh or groan dramatically.

You really didn’t care.

You really did not care in the slightest and you were not planning on asking him what the matter was.

He seemed to have other plans for your session though because about fifteen minutes into it he tossed his pencil down with a huff theatrical enough to be on broadway.

“What’s even the glubbin’ point o’ anyfin?” Eridan moped, slouching in his chair. “No matter what I do they’re always gonna fuckin’ beat me at all of this ship. It isn’t enough that that bulge-muncher Sollux keeps making heart eyes at Fef, but he just has to be so fuckin’ smart too. You’d think that after everything went south with Vris that he and I would be perfect kismesis but that pissblood four horned freak of nature just keeps playin’ so hard to get….”

You did not miss high school in the slightest.

“Oh who am I even kidding,” A perfect little teenage drama queen. “I’m awful and everyone hates me for it, and not even in the good way.” He griped. “Vriska’s probably filling him in on how much of a terrible quad-mate I am as we speak. Bet they’re already waxin’ pitch for each other anyways.”

Wow he just kept on going didn’t he? You thought normal teen drama was bad but you didn’t even understand most of what he was saying. And like hell you were going to ask for clarification, you just wanted to finish your hour and a half session and get back to your stocked fridge… maybe make some home-made butterscotch pudding? Yes.

You had effectively tuned most of his tirade out with the thought of delicious butterscotch.

"Dear Gl’bgolyb what a lowblood power couple that would be…” Sweet, sweet butterscotch. “And I’m all alone… destined to become almost as detestable as Cronus. Soon I bet even my lusus will loathe me like all the others.” With just a dusting of cinnamon on top. “Not as much as Cro of course because he’s the only person in the entire galaxy who’s worse ‘n me.” That’d really elevate it. “Hey! Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.” (No).

He continued to vent about his life as a teenager, and you learned far too much about how much he hates everyone in his class (which was unsurprising). After probably about ten more minutes of his self-pity mopey wank fest he turned to you with a very sharp grin. The kind Cronus usually wore and you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t creep you the hell out.

“I’m real sorry that you’ve been going through so much.”

“Well pay up.”

You blinked. “What?”

“It isn’t every day someone gets the chance to see a proper Ampora mope, so pay up.”

This kid had some serious issues. You knew that going into the gig, but somehow he just kept making himself less and less likeable.

“On Earth we call this, where you talk about your feelings to another person, therapy. And here, on Earth, the one who’s venting actually has to pay the person they’re venting to… so technically, you would owe me money.”

Eridan gaped at you, pulling out his weird little bug phone to look up what you’d told him.

“It’s okay. You’re new to Earth and it was a misunderstanding so I’ll let it slide this time, no charge….” He looked remorseful and more than a little lost, and even though you didn’t want to admit it, you did kind of feel bad for him. “You’re on a strange new planet with new rules and customs to adapt to all while going through highschool. Highschool already sucks, but being around a new species,” (That frankly harbored a lot of xenophobia, most schools weren’t ready to integrate multi-species classrooms just yet, there were protesters at the embassies, the government was only playing nice to get that upgraded weapon tech, honestly even though you weren’t really keeping up with intergalactic politics you wouldn’t be surprised if their citizenship on Earth was tenuous at best.) “It’s gotta be rough, and I’m sorry that you feel so alone.”

He looked at the floor, not meeting your eyes, and you placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched a bit before leaning into the touch.

“I know a pretty good therapist if you ever need to talk to one though. They specialize in humans there, but I bet they’d be pretty good at helping you with what you’re going through. I think it would probably be good for you.”

“And,” Fuck, you were really saying this weren’t you, “If you ever really need someone to talk to about stuff, I’ll listen. I’mma be honest, I don’t understand most of what you were saying about personal relationships and stuff, but if… if you _really_ need someone and you _really_ don’t feel like you have anyone else to turn to, I can do my best to listen.”

The gangly troll seemed to mull it over before mumbling what sounded like “Whatever,” matched with the undertone of indecipherable clicking that seemed to come from his throat.

That… that was a weird sound.

Trolls, for being aliens at least, had pretty human sounding voices. Adults tended to have more vocal fry than humans, but the adolescents you had met (which was admittedly a very small sample size) all sounded very human. But the noise he made was most assuredly, not.

You’d heard that they made odd noises, but you’d never heard it for yourself.

And you had no idea what it meant.

But there was a soft, bubbling whinny as the white creature that you had sworn you saw out of the corner of your eyes manifested from around a corner.

Was… was that a giant seahorse?

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” Eridan responded, that same sort of clicking sound in his throat. The seahorse nodded and left the way it had come, but not before meeting your eyes with its own violet ones.

“Oh heya, Pops.” You could hear Cronus in another room, followed by a stern gurgling nicker, then what sounded like a strained laugh. “Good… Good one, Pops….”

“So,” You said after a moment. “Are you ready to go over the Pythagorean theorem again, Eridan?”

“Yeah, let’s.”

The session continued as normal, Eridan still seeming more subdued than usual… which was disconcerting (given your financial situation… what if he wanted a different tutor?). But as he walked you to the door, he hesitated, shoving his hands into his pockets.

He was making that weird sort of clicking sound again in his throat, looking over to the side. “I learned a lot today…. Same time next week.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. “Same time next week.”

The trip home had been uneventful. There were some lab reports you still had to grade tonight if you wanted to keep ahead of the curve. Grading things last minute was definitely not something you wanted to do. But other than that, you really didn’t have much in the way of responsibilities for the rest of the night; Your actual research had already been written up, neatly charted in your excel spreadsheets, formulas already calculating the results.

So you kicked off your pants and put on some pajamas, making sure to empty your pockets onto your desk before putting your clothes in the hamper.

Tonight was date night, and you still had another hour before Phil finished his shift.

You sat down at your desk and-

Oh.

You still had Cronus’ goofy looking business card.

The eyes on his headshot seemed to follow you no matter how you turned the card… and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had paid someone to design this. The longer you looked at it the more uncomfortable it made you.

You punched the url into your computer, and immediately shoved the business card into one of the drawers so it wouldn’t keep staring at you. His soundcloud page was… not bad. Surprisingly the avatar was just a few violet squiggly lines on a white backdrop just like the symbol he wore on his shirt. The banner was also pretty tasteful, violet and plum on black. So far so good.

Then you saw the song titles.

Of course.

Lunar Lust, Daytime Hookup, You Can Hold My Hand (And My Bulge), Sexual Solicitations, Sluts. He had a song called Sluts.

You selected the most benign song you could find; Breakfast Nook.

Probably still dirty knowing just who wrote it, but maybe it would be about like… finding your true love over mutual love of french toast or some shit. The beat started out nicely…. Actually it was pretty good. You expected a lot more acoustic guitar, not the buzzing of electronica, but compositionally; it was a pretty good listen.

Cronus had a surprisingly good singing voice, but-

Nope.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

That was some alien sex shit he was singing about. You may not have known all of what the words meant, but that was hands down one of the raunchiest songs you had ever listened to. It was like a trainwreck that you couldn’t stop yourself from watching… but with your ears. Phil was gonna have a field trip with this.

And he did.

You both did.

It was honestly one of the funnest date nights you had had in a while; ribbing on the weird dubstep sex songs over skype.

And you definitely didn’t feel lonely at all when you hung up… (not even a little).

Much to your chagrin, Cronus was indeed the one to greet you for each session. Like clockwork he was there, sometimes you barely got to finish the first knock before the door would open like he was waiting on the doorstep for you to arrive. In fact, you’re pretty sure sometimes you saw his face pressed up against the window when you pulled into their massive circular driveway.

Today was no different, stupid unlit cigarette hanging between his lips, he greeted you with his usual, “Didn’t get enough last week, kitten?”

“This is simply business, Cronus. I’m here because I am being paid to be here at a specific time each week for a service rendered. AKA a _job._ ” You barely attempted to hide your annoyance with him anymore. “Not that you would know what that is. Somehow I can’t imagine you ever putting effort into anything other than your appearance.”

He sneered at you, showing off those shark teeth of his. “Glad you noticed my good looks, and I’ll have you know that I do have a job: Making bomb-ass music that’s gonna be at the top of the billboard charts soon.”

“I never stated that you looked good, only that you very obviously put effort into your appearance. Skinny jeans, t-shirt one size too small, slicked back hair… and you know you’re supposed to actually light the cigarette, right? You’re certainly emulating two douchey human fashion trends at once… and for all of that effort, when was the last time someone genuinely wanted to be around you?” You sniped back, and almost felt bad when his face fell. That was a new reaction... usually for some reason he would dig into the insults, but this was different.

He pursed his lips, pinched the bridge of his nose then looked back to you.

“Y’know, chief, you’ve got quite the quick tongue.” His laid back flirty smile returned just as quickly as it had left. “I wonder what you could do with it when you aren’t busy spitting barbs.”

Your own expression soured somewhat. “And I wonder what could happen with yours if you just stopped talking for once.” You regretted it the moment it left your mouth. That was… suboptimally worded and judging from the violet flush on his cheeks he’d heard the worst interpretation of it too.

His fins fluttered, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Mouth slightly ajar, like a fish out of water, moving as he worked to find words.

"That was not a proposition. I am in a happily committed relationship.” You amended. You were a researcher in the STEM field, you didn’t need to be good at off the cuff jabs for goodness sake. Were you usually? Yes. But sometimes… Sometimes you weren’t, and the fact that the universe sought to punish you when you weren’t was just another thing that ticked you off.

“Just uh…. Just the one?” Cronus’ shoe scuffed at the floor.

Oh no.

Oh no.

You did not like the direction this was heading.

“That’s all most humans have at one time.” You responded, then awkwardly amended. “There are of course exceptions to the norm, but humans by and large are relatively monogamous creatures. And before you ask, no I am not one of the exceptions in that respect, I am _happy_ with Phil.”

"You know you’re being very _ethnocentric._ It’s real closed minded of you to completely refuse to explore a different culture, kitten.” He chewed on the butt of his cigarette, still unlit. “I honestly expected better from you since you’re supposed to be educated and all. You might as well be like the rest of those xenophobes out there. Such a stuck-up fuckin’ prude.”

You just rolled your eyes. “I see someone’s been using their word a day calendar… though I’m not sure you understand the meaning of the words you speak. Trying to guilt me into fucking you by twisting fancy, wokewashed buzzwords…. You really are nothing more than a pitiful little fuckboy, aren’t you.”

His eyes widened, jaw going slack, fins drooping, cigarette falling to the ground. His face journey was something to behold as his expressions shifted from shocked to nervous to something you couldn’t quite place. “You… pity me?” His voice was very small.

“No. Pity requires a modicum of sympathy for you, of which I have none.”

He looked mildly perturbed, then quite upset. “Wow… I get that you’re basically pitch as fucking obsidian for me and shit but that was a fucking low blow even for you. Don’t say flushed shit if you don’t mean it. You really are one frigid candyblood chute–”

You literally could not care less about the nonsense spewing from his stupid fuckboy mouth. You unsubtly peered into the house behind him trying to catch some sign that Eridan would be coming to greet you soon.

“Cronus are you going to let me in or not?” You interrupted upon not seeing the younger troll.

“What do I get if I do?” That sleazy look in his eye returned as he looked you up and down.

“Well I won’t flog your desperate bass for scarin’ away another one of my tutors, is that sufficient enough for you, you repulsive sack of refuse?” Eridan’s voice came from behind Cronus. He looked positively livid.

“Was done here anyway….” Cronus took a deep breath before skulking away to the couch.

“I was on a grype call that ran longer than expected. I trust you were able to handle yourself with Cro?” It wasn’t an apology, but he did look mildly contrite.

You gave a noncommittal shrug and a sigh. You were getting pretty sick of it if you were being honest. You couldn’t exactly quit but if this was gonna be a regular thing….

“I’ll pay you time and a half to not leave and make me find another tutor.” Eridan muttered, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “You’re, dare I say, competent at your job and I don’t want to go through the tedious process of hirin’ someone else. You’re the first one Cronus hasn’t scared away after two sessions.”

"It's not like I need a lot of tutorin’,” He amended, “I’m pretty glubbin intelligent, but I can’t keep losing to a fuckin’ mustardblood bulge-munching delinquent. And if I have to keep starting over with different tutors again there’s no way I’ll be able to keep up with that bipolar bilge spill-slurping miscreant. And if I can’t keep up with him then can we even truly be full fledged kismesises?”

One and a half times what you were currently making with him…. Yeah you could keep this up. Sure, being stuck with Cronus still sucked but you could deal with it for that kind of money. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Eridan.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Now that we’ve got that all sorted out….”

He led you to the lavish dining room where your session went about as well as any of them did.

Your bank account was looking… relatively healthy for once. You were still poor of course, but you had just enough in your savings account that you could visit Phil this month. It was still a little tentative, but you’d decided on a when (Halloween weekend, you were pretty sure you’d be able to get a few days off for it) and a where, and you couldn’t be more excited. It would only be for a few days, you couldn’t afford more than that. You’d planned on driving, it’d be a little cheaper that way even if you’d be a little more tired.

Your fridge was full, your students were busy creating their own lab-work which took a load off of your shoulders, and your lessons with Eridan were going really well.

Your luck was finally starting to turn around. Life was… good. Better than it had been in a long time.

Until on a brisk Wednesday morning, your car broke down on the way to work.

A brief tow (thank you AAA), call to your department head, a mental breakdown and almost a grand down the toilet later, you were all set.

But the trip….

Phil….

Would have to wait. Not forever, you told yourself over and over again (but long enough).

You wiped your eyes as you parked outside Eridan’s lavish manor taking a moment to steady yourself.

You knocked on the door, then knocked again when no one answered after almost a minute. The door finally opened to Cronus (Of course the universe would not grant you reprieve). Today he was wearing sunglasses, face unusually pale and underneath the cloyingly thick scent of axe….

He absolutely reeked of alcohol.

“Hey, kitten back for more?” His words were stilted but not slurred…. You grinned.

That bitch was hung the fuck over.

“Of course. How _are_ you, Cronus?” You said just a bit too loud, watching him wince, face scrunching up from his hangover.

It was petty, it was mean, but god it felt so good to give him a little bit of hell. Take out just a tiny bit of the anger and frustration you’d been feeling all week.

“Doing just fine. Never better.” He flashed you what he thought must be a very charming smile, but it was strained, and even with the sunglasses blocking your view, you were positive that it didn’t reach his eyes.

"So happy to hear that,” And it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve every scrap of hostility of directed at him. He was a complete jackass. “Because I was starting to worry that maybe you were nursing a hangover. Of course you’re not though… that usually comes with that queasiness in your gut. Disgusting taste in your dry mouth." You watched giddily as his jaw clenched. “And such an _awful_ headache –”

“Yup… definitely not feeling like that at all, chief, but could we use our inside voices? Unless human lusii don’t teach basic fuckin’ etiquette.”

“I have no idea what you mean, Cronus.” You replied as sickeningly sweet as you could. “What’s an inside voice?”

“Jeegus, kitten, it’s when you keep your voice nice and low out a’ respect for the people forced to be around you.”

“You really do look quite _awful_ today, are you sure you’re feeling alright?” You lowered your voice a smidge, batting your eyelashes.

Eridan came sweeping down the hall in his cape and gave a disgusted look. “Yes, yes, you two hate each other, but keep it fuckin’ PG I _am_ still a minor, and I really don’t want to see whatever repugnant hateful acts your ugly asses come up with.”

“Minor nuisance more like.” Cronus sneered back at him.

The younger troll just gave him a scathing look and he backed down muttering something about not needing to deal with this shit today.

“Hate’s kind of a strong word…” You rubbed the back of your neck self-consciously. It wasn’t that it wasn’t a correct assessment of your feelings, but hearing out loud made you feel a little bit... bad. “Anyways, you guys should be starting quadratic equations soon, right?”

He nodded. “We’re supposed to start them tomorrow, so I want to go over them tonight so I can impress everyone.”

"Alrighty then, let’s get started.” You pulled out a small dry erase board and some markers.

"Actually,” Eridan plucked at his scarf, painted violet nails digging into the fabric as he looked over his shoulder to make sure Cronus wasn’t still skulking around. “I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about what you said before about… about the therapy thing. I… think I want to give it a try. It would be nice to talk to someone without a ton of judgment…. And I want the number of the therapist you recommended.”

“Yeah absolutely, of course, dude.” You pulled out your phone and searched for the contact number. “Here, I’ll email it to you.”

His voice was small as he replied with a quick, unexpected, “Thanks.”

“No problem at all. Mental health is important, and I think everyone could benefit from a bit of therapy. There’s no shame in it.” You gave him a slight smile which he brushed off, but you couldn’t be annoyed at him for it (even if you were in an abysmal mood). “And I know it probably doesn’t mean much because I’m just your math tutor, but I’m proud of you for taking care of yourself."

He puffed out his cheek like he was annoyed, but you could see something dancing behind his dark grey eyes, and you idly wondered if they would become that (lovely) shade of violet that Cronus’ were or if they would always remain the color they were now. You really didn’t know much about troll biology….

First contact had happened after you had already started college. And zoology hadn’t been your thing so much as mycology and to a lesser extent botany. But maybe if you were going to keep tutoring a troll you should learn a little more about them.

Was a thought you had… and a thought you promptly forgot about when the lesson began once more.`

Of course you were working Halloween (not that you had anything interesting or pressing to do); both jobs, and you’d spent nearly twenty dollars on candy for your students because your professors used to do that for you, and it always made your day so returning the favor for your students was a nonissue (and there was no one who appreciated sugar more than college students)… even though you were supposed to be spending the day with Phil at Cedar Point…. But life liked to kick you down (kind of a lot)….

But it was fine. You had a skype date planned for tomorrow because one of his friends had invited him to a party for tonight. And there was a giant pumpkin festival just a half hour drive away tonight which would be fun.

What you wouldn’t give for some land to grow your own pumpkins. Just a couple plants, and if you tended it well enough maybe you could enter one of those contests one day…. The thought of a pumpkin weighing over a ton was just so enrapturing. So weighed down by its own weight it would sag like a fat cat relaxing in the sunlight but with the hardness of the fibrous gourd it was.

How magical.

How resplendent.

How you yearned to grow one of your own.

But those dreams would have to wait… you liked to think that it would only be a few years, but you definitely worried that you might never (but you really didn’t like to go down that thoughtpath).

Eridan’s hive was decorated with the signs of fall, massive pumpkins (you felt a twinge of jealousy) carved into fantastic sculptures depicting what you supposed where the gruesome creatures feared by trolls. It was spectacular to behold.

God you hated being poor so much….

You felt so underwhelming in your witch hat and garlands of dried fallen leaves pinned to an old shawl. You liked to think you looked like an autumnal witch, but you weren’t under any illusions about how your costume would probably compare to Eridan’s.

Much to your surprise, Eridan was the one to greet you at the door instead of Cronus, which was a welcome reprieve from that smarmy, conniving, desperate asshole. And… wow, you were kind of expecting him to dress up like Dracula, given that his normal outfit already included a cape and he was a dramatic little bastard…. But you did not even in your wildest dreams expect him to be wearing an embroidered emerald green and gold dress and a red wig plaited in a long braid.

Was… was he Princess Fiona? From Shrek?

“Princess Fiona?” You asked.

He fidgeted a little nervously, but replied haughtily, “Of course.”

“Nice! That’s a bitchin dress dude, you look great.” He relaxed a little, flushing a light lavender.

“I know,” Eridan said quickly. “But it’s good of you to notice.”

“Is that crushed velvet?” You followed him to the dining room, and couldn’t help but notice the small smile on his lips.

“Why yes it is. I didn’t realize you had such exquisite taste in finery. No offense, you may be an academic, but I always took you for a bit of a peas– You never seemed the type to be into fashion… you dress rather plainly.”

Eridan had started therapy recently, and he seemed to be trying harder to watch what he said about other people which was also a very pleasant change of pace.

You set up at the table, getting yourselves situated when you heard the distinctive clicking of heels on polished stone floor, and you made the mistake of turning around.

Your mouth immediately went dry.

Oh.

Oh no.

Your blinked, once, twice, but no... Cronus was still very much there, lopsided grin on his face. Dressed like the whore he was (which wasn’t quite meant as an insult given that he really was dressed in an actual whoremongering uniform). Skintight strapless one-piece, fishnet stockings, a headband with two long ears sticking up on top, and a bow for a choker.

“What’sa matter, kitten, bunny got your tongue?” He asked very slowly and deliberately and you realized you had been staring way too long.

“Cronus, go be a slut somewhere else.” Eridan sneered, but the older troll just chuckled and gave you a wink (was he wearing sparkly eye shadow??).

“Don’t worry, Chief, I’ll be out of your weird orange wig in no time. I do have a party to go to in a little while, after all.” He walked over to the couch and your wicked, treacherous eyes couldn’t help but catch on the little cottontail right at his tailbone (and definitely did not look any lower, no sir, you definitely did not check him out). Cronus perched on the back of the sofa, grinning at you like the evil son of a bitch he was. “Unless of course I find something _better to do._ ”

Eridan made a little sound of disgust, “Your behavior is nothin’ short of appallin’,” He rummaged through his papers and sighed, "Crap I forgot my worksheet upstairs. I’ll be right back.” He got up and left the room, leaving you very, very much alone with that despicable, sinful asshat in the playboy bunny suit that you were desperately doing your best to ignore as you stared blankly at the binder in front of you.

You heard the clicking of his heels getting closer until his hand was on your shoulder, picking at one of the leaves on your shawl, and you almost jumped out of your skin. “This costume looks good on you, but I bet it’d look even better on my floor.”

You grit your jaw and shrugged him off, “You’re awful quiet tonight, kitten.”

“Sorry, just thinking about how wonderful my boyfriend is.” You replied, finally turning to look at him and give him one of your unimpressed faces.

(Which may not have been one of your better ideas).

You could feel your cheeks heating up as you stared up at him, trying very hard not to think about how tall he was or how close he was or how the fishnets accentuated his– … well… a lot of things. You were doing your best to keep your mind blank.

He went to speak again but you stood up abruptly, “Excuse me, I have a non-communicable human disease, and I have to use your bathroom.” You hurried over to the closest one and locked yourself in.

You splashed some cold water over your face and you met your own gaze in the mirror.

Oh no.

Oh no… he’s hot.

You could hear Squidward wailing the words in your head.

He was hot, and your last date with Phil had been interrupted by his grandmother, and that had ruined the mood, and you were still very horny, and you’d been so mad you just threw yourself into work, and.. and….

Goddamn you were trying very, very hard not to imagine what Cronus would look like naked. After all trolls were very, very humanoid down to the bipedal nature. Sure they had horns and different blood colors but overall a troll silhouette wasn’t that different from a humans…. And the slope of his abdomen was interesting and you hadn’t really seen much of a – No.

No you were not going to think about this.

You were in a committed relationship, and Cronus was the least desirable person you knew… even if he looked good when he tried. His personality was still trash. He was still the same Cronus you knew and loathed.

He was still the asshat who insulted you every single time you turned him down.

And wouldn’t stop when you told him you weren’t interested.

And he probably had multiple STDs.

Yes. He was definitely disease ridden and awful.

You nodded to yourself in the mirror.

You could do this.

You opened the door and went out to see Cronus perched on the sofa, legs crossed at the ankle as he watched you like a hawk. “You certainly look a little _flustered,_ don’t you, kitten?”

“And you look like a whore.” You bit back, but he just winked.

“Thank you,” He replied. “But I really think I’m more of a slut. If I was a whore, I’d be making you pay me to ride my bulge, but I’m offering it for free.”

There he was.

There that disgusting shuckboy was.

Despite his lewd hand gesture and the subtle pat on his lap like he expected you to sit there, you really weren’t feeling it.

He had successfully killed that awful swirling in the pit of your stomach (which, to set the record straight, definitely wasn’t even there to begin with).

You rolled your eyes and walked past him without a second glance (you were pretty proud of yourself for that).

“Jeegus, kitten, don’t be such a prude. Do you know how many people would die to be in a kismessitude with me? I’m practically top of the hemospectrum. There are literally two other trolls in the whole goddamn universe higher than me.”

You turned to look at him; He was practically glowering at you. “Cranky ‘cuz you’re horny, ain’t ya, Cronus?” You couldn’t help the shit eating grin creeping over your face. “If you’re so high up, what are you doing hitting on some lowly peasant academic? I’m not even your _species._ ”

He blushed. “I just… I just feel sorry for you. Stuck in some boring human romance when you could be with actual royalty…. You’re cute and I’m down. I’m as good as you’re ever gonna get, toots.”

"Sorry, I’m not into spoiled, bratty subs.” You turned and sat back down before you could break your expression, but not before you caught a glimpse of the absolutely offended face he made.

God that was satisfying.

You could hear him sputtering behind you, but you refused to turn and look at him again and Eridan had just settled himself back down at the table.

The session went about as well as normal, and for every right answer he got you gave Eridan a piece of candy which probably weren’t up to his high society rich standards, but he seemed pleased nonetheless.

Cronus had moped on the sofa, draping himself over the back like a bereft harlot for a good half of the session before loudly declaring he was going to a party where someone would “understand exactly what to do with this hot piece of ass” (smacking his own on his way out in emphasis).

Overall, it was certainly not the worst time you could have had… probably.

And you definitely did not think about how the black material of Cronus’ suit hugged his skin, or the way the heels he wore accentuated his ass, and your dreams that night were definitely just about the giant pumpkins you had gone to view afterward and definitely did not involve a horny fuckboy on his knees.

Nope.

Not.

At.

All.

The department was adding a new student to the grad program in the spring, they were in the interview process right now. You could hear the questions in the other room as you tidied up your office and prepared to head out for the day.

It was incredibly tempting to stay just a little bit late to corner them after the interview and get to know them because honestly the interview process for the department was kind of a joke. It was way too small for them to turn down any competent applicants (and even some incompetent ones, but those usually just flunked out of the program). But you didn’t want to be late for your tutoring session with Eridan. You’d been late last week because you’d been dreading seeing Cronus after Halloween….

You weren’t prepared to do the same this week… you really couldn’t afford to lose that tutoring position.

So with a heavy heart you locked up and gave one last look at the next door and what was no doubt an excellent interview from the way the department head was laughing. You could always use a good funnyman in the crew. The last one had been Teddy before he’d transferred out west to study the recent surge of Amanita phalloides on the pacific coast (with the surge of amateur mushroom enthusiasts, poisonings were becoming a serious problem… there was a reason it was called the death cap).

You’d done your best to fill the void and bring levity, but there was only so much you could lift with your deadpan delivery of jokes which, although funny, tended to be a much drier sense of humor than Teddy had specialized in.

Although everyone seemed to enjoy your cheesy pickup lines:

“Is your name Amanita Virosa? Because Angel you are killing me.”

“I must have eaten a fly agaric because surely someone so beautiful can only exist in my dreams.”

(Which did not go over well when you tried it at some of the local bars… Or even the mushroom festivals you’d gone to….)

You threw your bag into the passenger seat and drove the twenty minutes to Eridan’s hive.

The pumpkins that had been carved for Halloween no longer decorated his yard, but the few that had been left in tact still rested where they had the previous few weeks.

You wondered if he had a gardener….

You wondered if he was looking to hire another gardener.

The door opened as you approached, Cronus giving you his characteristic sharky grin. Did he just… not understand the word no? Was that some sort of troll thing?

“Cronus.” You gave him a curt nod, noticing that as he blocked the doorway, one of his hands was conspicuously placed behind his back.

“Kitten,” He began his customary greeting, “Still can’t keep yourself away, eh? Drawn to the old Ampora charm.” He waggled his eyebrows and you grimaced. “I actually got something for you.”

“If it’s your dick, I’m not interested.” You replied flatly.

But he just kept up his lazy little nasty smile with too much teeth as he pulled out a bouquet of flowers and held them out.

You froze for a moment as he looked at you expectantly.

It was….

“These’re for you.”

You reached out a tentative hand, taking the bouquet, examining the flowers very carefully. White lilies of the valley and bloodroot surrounded light pink oleanders and foxglove and in the middle violet larkspur and monkshood.

“Digitalis, Delphinium, Aconitum, Sanduinaria canadensis….” You listed their names, and though you knew it was a bad idea, you couldn’t resist ghosting your finger along the purple caps of the monkshood wondering if your finger would break out in itchy hives just from contact. People said that it would happen if you touched ghost peppers but it never did… But these…. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to kill me.”

You saw that sharky grin widen even further.

"Did you put much thought into this?” You asked, but given the deadly arrangement in your hands, it was impossible that he hadn’t put thought into it. He must have gone to the city to get them all. They were out of season, and dangerous enough that most florists refused to carry more than the lillies of the valley… and if they did creating a bouquet of them specifically like this… nah. He would have had to find a specialty shop. You legitimately had to wonder if he was trying to kill you with this.

“’Course I put thought into it, kitten. Honestly that you’d imply otherwise is offensive.”

“Of course. How could I have thought otherwise…” You smiled in turn and met his eyes, “Purity, duplicity, fortune, toxic as hell… It’s almost as though you tried to have the florist distill your essence into a bouquet.”

He let out an incredulous laugh looking wickedly delighted. “Ain’t nothing pure about me, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the pet name… and here you thought you couldn’t hate one more than kitten. "Yes I’m sure your DM’s are very full with potential suitors who definitely aren’t bots or catfishers.”

“They are actually. I have a very active romantic life. Bitches are practically throwing themselves at me wherever I go.” He gave you a smug grin. “But you know my little black book always has room for my number one fan.”

You’re pretty sure your eyes might roll out of their sockets from how much you were rolling your eyes… but he had given you a nice gift so you cut him a little slack. Before you could respond, Eridan pushed Cronus out of the way and beckoned you in.

The older troll glared daggers at him but he paid him no mind. “Sorry for him… you know how he is.”

"Nothing to apologize for.” You responded quickly, looking at the bouquet in your hand.

You couldn’t help but glance over at them during the session. They really were quite lovely specimens…. And you… had never really received flowers before. At least not in this sort of context.

You’d gotten them when you achieved things… like graduating, or helping secure a grant, or doing well on a performance in high school. You’d never gotten flowers in a romantic or even a “just cause” context…. And you didn’t quite know how to feel about it.

He’d taken the time to research flowers or at least dictate to a florist exactly what he was looking for and… fuck.

You’d just been mean to him about it.

When your session had ended, you took a moment to seek out Cronus. He sat on one of the porch steps, chewing on the butt of his cigarette and staring at your beat up old sedan. He looked up at you as you approached and gave you his signature lopsided smile.

“I…” You began, scratching the back of your neck. Why was this so hard? “Uh… Thanks for the flowers. They were a very thoughtful gift and I appreciate it very much.” You mumbled out, doing your best not to look at him.

He snorted. “Shit… you mean you don’t hate them?”

Wha-

“Of course I don’t hate them. They’re beautiful.”

“Yeah but they’re completely useless.” He looked at you with an odd mix of disbelief and curiosity.

You couldn’t help the mischievous smile forming on your lips. “Maybe in the wrong hands.”

You could see his pupils dilate and a violet flush tint his cheeks in the light pouring out from the windows. His jaw worked silently as though he wanted to say something, but you were already walking past him.

You stopped for a second to awkwardly pat his head before opening the car door. “Thanks again.”

Should you have put them in water? Well that was one of the options you had when you got back to your apartment. But they would wilt and die relatively quickly.

So like any ridiculously sentimental person, you hung them upside-down above your desk, being careful to wrap a cheesecloth (that would now be rendered too poisonous to use on food) around the blooms to minimize the risk of contaminating your workspace and accidentally ingesting any,

You took on last look at them as you got into bed resolving not to tell Phil about them. It wasn’t like you were trying to hide the fact that another man had given you flowers and you’d kept them… but Phil could get a little jealous. And it’s not like you were doing anything wrong in keeping them but maybe…. Maybe it was just better if you kept it to yourself.

And as you turned off the light, you couldn’t help the small smile playing on your lips.


	2. In Which an Understanding is Reached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eridan decides to throw a human style Christmas party to one-up his new nemesis, and you do your absolute best to get through it with as minimal contact with Cronus as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this took forever to finish... but it's about three times the length of the first chapter so I hope you all enjoy it. And it's perfectly timed for the holidays so I guess that worked out pretty well haha.
> 
> After writing this I decided that I would never make a chapter this long again so I'm splitting chapter 3 into 3 smaller chapters that should be out much more quickly than just one massive chunk. This clocks in at a little over 27k words so I'm pretty proud of it.
> 
> I also wrote up a little smutty piece to go with the fic and posted that as a separate story but in the same series as this one

Your parents had decided to spend the holidays with your brother who was stationed overseas…. You were happy for them. Really you were. And Phil would be spending them with his family as well, which was just grand, and he’d invited you out to Minne-fucking-sota to celebrate with them. You were definitely just happy and not at all bitter about the whole thing and the fact that you had just had to use almost all of your savings to fix up your stupid car and that you were going to spend yours very, very alone.

So when Eridan told you that he would be having a Christmas party you were more than a little surprised. First that trolls celebrated Christmas at all, second that he was branching out and doing something out of his comfort zone, and third that he would invite you of all people. You had felt something shift in your relationship after he started actually going to therapy, something almost personal, but you weren’t friends. Not really. He was just a kid who needed guidance and a nudge (repeated shoves) in the right direction.

You were just nonthreatening and in a position of just enough power and just enough informality that he seemed to respect you enough to sometimes listen to your advice.

The party had been an idea from his therapist, but it was something that he seemed genuinely excited to do; To one-up his brand new nemesis, of course. “It’ll be perfect! John’ll be humiliated when my party blows his stupid, puny one out of the water!” It seemed he had gotten over the troll boy who he’d been trying to build a rivalry with.

And honestly, you were pretty proud of him for putting himself out there like that. You knew he had a lot of problems maintaining his friendships because of his horrendous personality. This would be a chance to maybe make things right and show that he wasn’t a massive prick all the time… even if his motivation of spite and rivalry weren’t really in the Christmas spirit.

He was even tactful enough not to complain when you had just given him a tin full of gingerbread dinosaurs as an early gift the week after the invite. You didn’t have a lot in the way of money or time to do much more than that.

Eridan could barely focus on his homework, changing the subject constantly to talk about his party, and of course, John. You were pretty sure he had a crush on his human classmate, but you had no intention of asking him about it. Troll romance was weird, and you still couldn’t quite get the whole quadrants thing…. You barely had enough time for one partner let alone four.

“He’s just so positive all time, and everyone just loves him sooo much. It’s so frustratin.” Eridan waved his pencil around animatedly. “And his human dad always bakes him stupid saccharine confections, and is going to have ‘eggnog’ at his party. Well I _too_ can have ‘eggnog’ at my party, and it’ll be better than his because I will have _professionals_ make it. Who needs a human dad when you have money?” He gave a nasty little fishy smile that was just a little too mean to be comforting. “It will be so much cooler than his party, and I’m going to invite all of the coolest people I know. I’ll even invite _The_ Marvus Xoloto that’ll show _him_ who’s the bigger fish.” The name was vaguely familiar.

“That’s very nice, Eridan. I’m glad you’re so passionate about your rivalry, but we still gotta make sure you finish up your homework.” You patiently replied.

He just groaned in response.

“Can’t you just do it for me or somefin?”

“Nope.” You made the mistake of looking up, catching sight of Cronus watching you both from the sofa in the other room. He smirked at you, and you rolled your eyes, turning back to look at the almost blank sheet of paper. “C’mon, these proofs aren’t going to do themselves.”

But it was almost useless as your pupil just stared off into space, drumming his fingers on the table with a determined little smile on his face.

“I can think of a couple things I wouldn’t mind watching do themselves.” Cronus said from his position on the couch. You glared at him. “If you know what-”

“Everyone knows what you mean, Cronus. You’re as subtle as a cannon.”

He just grinned, sharp teeth gleaming in the light. “I’ll show you my cannon anytime, kitten.”

You’re pretty sure you might actually end up murdering him.

“Don’t you have like… actual things to do? Like anywhere else? Ever?”

“And miss this view?” He gave you an overly suggestive wink. “You coming to the Crispmas party, doll? It’s not just gonna be Danny-boy and his wiggler friends. There’s gonna be other adults and 'booze' and stuff. It’ll be fun. Some of my other friends’ll be there too.”

You had to admit it did sound a lot better than sitting alone in your apartment getting sad drunk and crying yourself to sleep to the backdrop of hallmark movies.

“You could even bring your boyfriend that you talk about so much.” That sent a pang through your chest that you did your best to ignore. “Maybe even have a threesome because you know I’m down for that. Like not even just a little down, like super down. Damn, babe, that sounds hot. You’ve convinced me. You, me, him, let’s make a fucking Cronus sandwich. Holy shit that’s a good line, I gotta write that down. That’s so going into my next song.”

He hopped over the couch to the table to snag a pencil and piece of stationary, writing his lyrical masterpiece down.

“That’s going to be a hard pass. Phil and I are not looking for a unicorn and if we were you definitely would not meet the criteria.” You snorted, looking over to see Eridan just doodling a picture of him and who you guessed was John, kissing under some mistletoe but also somehow looking incredibly mad while doing it. God was romance the only thing this entire household thought about?

“I guess that’s what a guy gets for trying to be inclusive and sex positive in this world.” Cronus pouted. “I go ahead and put myself out there over and over again and everyone just steps all over my poor little pump biscuits. Every single time…. And all I ever want to do is be sensitive and listen and write poetry about them. But no, no one wants a sweet, nice guy.” He hurled himself dramatically onto the couch. “It’s like I have to broken to get some attention,” (You were at least ninety five percent sure at least _part_ of him was broken). “No one understands the soul of a tortured artist. Being deep is hard. It’s hard and nobody understands.”

“You’re not deep, you’re just desperate. Get over yourself.”

You’re pretty sure you heard him mutter, _"no one understands_ ” into one of the many nautically themed couch pillows, but he had stopped bothering you, and it was clear that Eridan was not in the right head space for proofs. Maybe it would be best if you were to cut the session short…. You had a lot of lab journals to grade anyway.

But as you stood up, Eridan turned to you, a thoughtful look on his face as though doing some sort of mental calculation. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and his internal monologues were pretty easy to decipher just by watching his face. Finally he came to rest at a pout, cheeks sort of puffed out while he looked to the side, his hands clenching and unclenching. “Teach me how to make those cookies… so I can rub John’s stupid face in how insurmountably talented I am.”

It was worded as a command, but the way his voice cracked and how he wouldn’t meet your eyes told you it was very much a question. A very important question and you were faced with a Decision. He wasn’t your responsibility and you had a lot of work to get done, but he was actively working on bettering himself, and he wanted your help.

So you gave him a tired smile and nodded.

“I absolutely can if you say please.”

He said it so quickly and quietly that you would have missed it if you weren’t listening for it. It was good enough for now.

“Do you have ingredients for it?” He nodded, bringing you over to the overly large kitchen and gesturing around him. “Do you know where they are?”

At that he frowned. “I ain’t ever needed to know,” His tone haughty.

“Alright then,” You looked around, rummaging through cabinets until you found some measuring tools and mixing bowls. Flour, sugar, salt, some spices labeled in a language you couldn’t read but smelled like cinnamon and nutmeg. “Do you know if you have molasses and baking soda?”

After a lot of searching you both managed to find all of the ingredients for a few things; Two very simple cookies for a beginner gingerbread and snickerdoodles, and a liquor… pantry? (It was much more than just a cabinet and was alarmingly well stocked). You started with the gingerbread since it would need to rest in the fridge for a bit before it could be rolled out and shaped.

It was mostly you doing the work, Eridan acting as the sous chef, prepping the ingredients and listening intently as you explained what would be going on chemically (because you couldn’t resist giving him a breakdown as to how everything would bind together to create something magically delicious and seemingly more than the raw sum of its parts). Occasionally he would make a snide, impolite comment but you would just stop and look at him until he caved and apologized. Therapy really was working wonders on this little gremlin.

Once the dough for the gingerbread had come together and you’d put it in the fridge, you started on the snickerdoodles, having him make the sugar and spice mixture for the coating.

“This recipe is one of the best I’ve got… It’s actually a pretty good anyday cookie, not just for holidays.” You gave him a cocky grin. “Not to brag, but whenever I’d make these for my friends I’d need to make at least two batches because without a doubt one of my friends would eat an entire batch himself.”

You hadn’t seen him since he’d decided to live in a bus with his girlfriend off the grid, roaming wherever their hearts led them. Not tied down with jobs or rent or anything. You thought it was a nice idea, far too idealistic to work though and when you’d brought up the subject of making sure they fed themselves and were able to get mail or anything they’d brushed you off. But they hadn’t called you up asking for money so maybe things were working out for them…. Neither of them had answered your messages in months though.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. There was no time to be sad, it was fun winter solstice celebration time and you had a lot to do, and Eridan was starting to complain about the flour splotches on his new lavender apron and if you didn’t hold it together….

“What’cha makin, Chief?” Cronus loomed over you with that stupid punchable smirk on his face. And loomed was the only word you could aptly describe it as, penned between him and the counter you were acutely aware of just how much taller that alien shuckboy was than you.

It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t. Whatever higher power out there that decided that they were going to make trolls taller than humans then force you to interact with the worst of them should honestly just be stripped of their powers. Because they were stupid and made cruel decisions.

“Cronus in the spirit of the holidays I’m going to give you a warning: If you sneak up on me again I _will_ beat you half to death with this spoon.”

"Haha then what?” He winked.

"Go be gross somewhere else!” Eridan smacked him with the rolling pin. “’fore I stab you, and I know where exactly to make it hurt.”

“I ain’t even done anything yet.” The older troll pouted, taking a seat on the kitchen island. “Can’t blame a guy for being hungry, maybe I’m just waiting for you guys to finish so I can make somethin' for dinner. Ain’t nothing creepy or gross about that.”

“Fine, but if you’re going to wait in here breathing down our necks, you’re gonna help out.” You shot Cronus a look over your shoulder.

He rolled his eyes. “Nyeh, fine. Where do you need me, chief?”

“In the sink so you can wash those hands of yours. After that, bring those baking sheets over here.”

By the time you took the last tray of cookies out of the oven, you were pretty tired… you’d been there three hours longer than you had expected. The sky outside was dark, the edges of the windows frosted over, the bickering between the two trolls behind you had failed to peter off even once they started stuffing their mouths full of gingerbread. Or rather, Cronus was stuffing his face with gingerbread and running around the room laughing while Eridan chased him around shouting about how those cookies were supposed to be for his friends and what sort of violence he would enact on his older counterpart if he would just _slow down_. The kitchen was fairly trashed even though you’d done your best to encourage everyone to clean up as you went (no way in hell were you cleaning up after these idiots after everything).

You took a cookie for yourself and watched as Eridan attempted to beat Cronus with a flour-encrusted rolling pin. What a messy, chaotic, violent... family(?)….

But you had to admit… you didn’t feel alone.

The party was set to start at six and end at midnight, a respectable time frame for any party that wasn’t being hosted by a highschooler… not that you particularly cared. They were rich and spoiled so it only made sense that their parties would reflect that. Everything was decked out in twinkling lights, color coded and tastefully asymmetrical with a bright purple and gold star in the middle. Eridan may not have celebrated the holiday, but hot damn did he know how to decorate. Not that you expected anything less knowing him; He was the definition of Bougie Bitch (you were fairly certain there was at least one urban dictionary entry referencing him).

You arrived late of course. Their circular driveway already packed with plenty of cars; you had to park pretty far away from the actual house, just on the edge of their substantial property by the hedgeline. Christmas music was audible even all the way out here, silhouettes visible in the windows. You knocked on the door, and suddenly you felt under-dressed for the occasion in your sweater and khakis.

What if this was a fancy party?

You had just come from your last interdepartmental meeting of the semester, the lab reports of your students in the back seat of your car just waiting to be graded.

The door swung open and you were greeted by a very pleased looking Eridan. He wore a thick black turtleneck with violet and gold embroidery (what an extra, bougie bitch) that went to his mid thigh, and red pants; a sheer almost translucent red scarf wrapped around his thin neck and spiraled down his arms. You had to admit, he had an impeccable fashion sense. You told him as much.

"Yes well, it’s good of you to notice.” He smiled, one of those rare, fleeting genuine ones where his fins fluttered, before letting you in.

The inside was almost stiflingly warm (they really were quite dramatic about the cold for people who actively decided to settle down in Jersey) and decorated even more lavishly than the outside. The walls were strung with garlands and the halls were quite literally decked with boughs of holly. You counted not one, not two, but at least four different Christmas trees and that was just from where you were standing.

“There’s food over on the dinin’ room table if you want any. We have human Eggnog as well and also somefin called a Yule Log which is actually a chocolate cake and not in fact a slab of tree. Do not tell Cronus… the ruse that humans actually ingest wood is far too amusin’ to give up on now.”

"Don’t worry.” You stage whispered conspiratorially. “I do my best not to interact with him at all… and if I do, I promise I will tell him that tree branches are an important part of holiday meals.” Honestly it wasn’t that far of a stretch. Cinnamon was just tasty tree bark after all and that was perhaps the most important spice for holiday desserts.

This seemed to please your host who excused himself not long after to go hang out with a group of kids around his own age. He draped his arm around the shoulders of a really dorky looking human kid with buck teeth, glasses, and a smile that could melt even the most frozen of hearts. Ah. That must be John.

The party was already pretty poppin (kids still used that word right?), there were a lot of trolls here… some of them definitely adults. You stood there awkwardly among the masses of large aliens feeling very small and out of place for a few moments….

So like any sane person, you went for the food.

Wow… he really went all out with it. There were several tables laden with food from cookies to candy to what looked like some sort of roasted bird to shrimp and what looked like... Oh god. Those were definitely bugs. Stuffed bugs.

Not that you were judging. If people wanted to eat bugs, they could eat bugs all they wanted. In fact shellfish were basically sea bugs. But uh… bug for dinner just wasn’t what you were feeling.

You found the bowl of eggnog and one of the troll sized mugs to ladle it into. You took a sip.

And then another to confirm.

One: This was the best eggnog you had ever had.

Two: There was most definitely alcohol in this.

Three: Kids should probably not be drinking this.

But you weren’t their guardian so why should you care so much… besides, if you drank all of it, then you could save the kids.

Yes.

You were going to drink this bowl of eggnog dry.

… For the kids.

You were about halfway through your mug when you heard an unexpectedly familiar voice.

“Oh my gog, Teach?”-

You turned to face your star pupil…. Even though her lab notes were a hot mess to get through between mystery stains that smelled like peach schnapps, disorganized rants, and doodles in the margins. Roxy’s bright eyes met your own, an infectiously carefree smile on her face. "Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise!”

“OMG! Teach! I didn’t know you were gonna be here.” The flush on her cheeks gave away her partially inebriated state, the festive elf hat she wore partially skewed. “This is so cool! You’re like a real person now. Not that you weren’t before but like… now you’re _real real_.”

You gave her a dry smile. “As someone who’s been on the other side, I get it. I didn’t realize you knew the Amporas.”

“Wha- no.” She laughed, “Fefie invited me. I don’t know whoever lives here… but Feferi and Nepeta said it was cool if I came.” She looked over her shoulder at two troll girls chatting animatedly and waved. They enthusiastically returned it. “See? Gog they are just the cutest! Sweet sweet Feferi and clever little Nepeta. Teach just look at them!” She put her hand on your shoulder, the smile on her face full of affection.

You had remember Eridan talking extensively about Feferi, and his description definitely did her justice. Sweet round eyes and cheeks, dark curls cascading down her back. The girl beside her who must be Nepeta was wearing a kitty hat and a green coat, hair shoulder length and wild, a wide toothy grin on her face.

"They are definitely some cute kids.” You replied, taking another long swig from your mug.

"We went to school together. They did yearbook club with me ‘n Janey. Did you know Fef was supposed to be like… the empress one day? And she was just in yearbook club like a normal ass girl. Cray cray.”

"Shit dude… I’m pretty sure Eridan was in a similar position. Like aristocracy or something. Kind of a little shit about it though, but he’s getting better.” When she gave you a questioning look you elaborated. “I tutor him in math once a week, and let me tell you he’s making some strides in both his geometry and being less of a genocidal racist.”

Roxy laughed, and for some reason you felt intensely satisfied. It was probably the eggnog hitting you. You always were a lightweight when it came to drinking. “It must have sucked so bad growing up on Alternia.”

You hummed in agreement, drinking deeply from your mug.

“Is that the ‘nog you got?” You nodded. “That shit’s straight up deloycious.”

“Yes, yes it is.” You downed some more. “I’m sort of used to the crap you get in those cartons. This is so much better.”

"Getting drunk with my pro pro!” She snorted, ladling some eggnog for herself. “Teach, oh my gog I was tellin my good and personal friend Jake the Snake about how you know like every single plant out there because he likes to go on adventures and stuff so if he shows up you have to tell him all about it because he likes to go adventures? Wait I think I already said that…. But like you can tell him about the different plants he can use for like… power ups. Like the extra life mushroom in Mario but like irl. Do they have those irl?”

Another human made her way over to the two of you, noticeably uncomfortable as she glanced furtively at the trolls; Even the small ones were as tall as you were. The adults though were something else. All of them hitting or easily surpassing six feet in height, thick leathery skin and large, impressive horns crowning their head.

“Janey! Janey this is the prof I was telling you about! The cell bio one.” Roxy greeted her bespectacled friend.

Jane gave you a curt nod before hissing out, “You didn’t tell me this was going to be a Christmas gala with a hundred people. I didn't even realize this many trolls celebrated Christmas.”

Roxy rolled her eyes. “C’mon Janey it’s the holidays… even if you don’t celebrate a specific one doesn’t mean that you can’t feel it in your heart! Everyone can celebrate Christmas if they want to even if they are aliems. It’s like a feeling that you just get when it gets cold and you wanna party. Like lets be fo realsies the church just stole all the solstice holidays and slapped lil baby Je-Je on them so like it's basically a bastard holiday anyway.”

Her friend crossed her arms, frowning. “I get that, I just….” She sighed. “I just…. I thought it was gonna be a smaller party…. You said a couple of Feferi’s friends not half of the tri-state area. Not that I don’t wanna see so many people participating in holiday merrymaking,” Jane amended quickly with a nervous laugh.

You nodded.

“I can understand that sentiment. Crowds are kind of the worst.” You didn't really feel uncomfortable around trolls, especially after interacting with Eridan and Cronus so frequently, but large crowds of strangers? You turned and poured her a mug of eggnog. “I mean I kind of knew it was going to be a big party going into it because Eridan said he was inviting basically everyone he knew, but honestly I didn’t expect him to know this many people. If it makes you feel any better I literally know three people here. One of whom,” (Cronus), "I am very much hoping I don’t have to interact with at all.”

Roxy feigned upset, “Teach! I thought we were having a good time!”

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced though.” You held the mug of eggnog you had poured out to Jane as you stated your name. “I was the head lab TA for Roxy’s cell bio class.”

“Jane Crocker,” She replied, soft hand taking the mug from you. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She reached into her bright red bag and pulled out a tupperware container. “I brought cookies, but I didn’t make enough for this many people…. I would have made more if _someone_ had warned me there would be this many people here.” Jane gave Roxy a _look_.

“C’mon, Janey, don’t even worry about it. We can just have them with Fef and Nep, no one needs to know our lil secret.” Roxy said with a wink.

“I won’t tell, promise.” You gave them a sterilized smile and nod.

“It’s been good seein’ you teach!”

And just like that, you were alone again.

Alone in the crowd.

Cool, cool, cool….

You finished your mug of eggnog in no time at all, already starting to regret coming.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know what you were getting into here… You weren’t exactly close with the Amporas, and you knew that they were basically big-shots back on Alternia.

...Maybe you could follow Roxy…?

No, she and Jane looked really happy eating cookies with their friends. You couldn’t dare impose on that. No…. You would just have to interact with people… like a normal person.

Yeah.

You could do that. (You had somehow convinced your roommate back in freshmen year that you were somehow extroverted… maybe you could pull something off like that again.)

You just had to go up to someone and say ‘Hi, my name is –

Oh god what if you forgot your name.

What if you said something stupid.

You poured yourself another mug of eggnog, grabbed a cookie off one of the many platters, and did your best to stand in the corner looking as inconspicuous as possible.

You managed to look up at just the right time (or perhaps it was the absolute worst time) as an incredibly beautiful troll in a low-cut gown looked over at you from her friend group, eyes locking on you and giving you an appraising look. She gave you a slight smile, jade green lips parting over fangs, before returning to her the conversation her circle was having….

Were… were they talking about you?

Oh god…. What were they saying? (Maybe if you strained your ears hard enough….)

A derisive snort met your ears and you tried your best not to turn to look at who made it. A nasally, lisped voice followed it. “Told me that he wasn’t black for me anymore so I should just back off. Like, seriously you astronomically pan-rotted degenerate piece of fish shit, I legitimately hate your stupid chumbucket guts in the most unromantic way possible. I’m not into him. I never have been! And even _implying_ otherwise.... The next time he does it-”

“Ugh, Tunes, can we like, not talk about him? I’m trying to enjoy this rad as hell human-inspired party and even thinking about him gets my acid tract filled with all kinds of nasty bile.”

“Yeah, you're right. He’s not even worth the air to complain about.”

You almost wondered who they were talking about.

_Almost._

You did your best to stare into your mug and not respond. It would be so easy. You could make some new friends and not feel so out of place at this stupid party that you were quickly becoming too drunk to abscond from… you couldn’t drive like this.

Maybe if you could commiserate with someone….

But no, the other troll already said that she hated even talking about him.

You took another swig from your mug and looked back up to people watch. That was usually fun at least.

Eridan seemed to be getting along with a small group of trolls and humans, and for once actually looked like he was enjoying himself as a wiry troll girl with an eye patch spoke animatedly, gesturing as though she was telling a dramatic story as another girl in red glasses brandished a similarly colored cane. You couldn’t help the small smile creeping on your face… you really were tremendously proud of him.

And then of course, you saw Cronus practically cornering another troll. He was wearing a muted violet and white sweater with "Single and ready to Jingle" knit into the front underneath a mistletoe pattern. Both of his horns were capped off with a little Santa hat with what looked like jingle bells on it. (You begrudgingly admitted that the look could have been very cute if he weren't so gross). The other troll seemed far less than interested, not that the Ampora seemed to take a hint… or a direct and confrontational no.

And there was something immensely satisfying about the way the other troll just tossed their drink in his face, leaving him floundering as they walked away. You ducked into the next room as you saw his head turn towards the sound of your snickers.

_Nope._

You were _not_ dealing with him tonight. No sir.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the tallest troll you had ever seen… and he seemed to be staring incredibly intently at you. You swallowed some more ‘nog down and looked back. He must have been over eight feet tall, towering horns only a foot or so from the ceiling. His silhouette was almost skeletal, only enhanced by the bone suit he wore, face painted in the facsimile of a skull. The wild mane of hair on his head stretched out in all directions, and his deep purple eyes locked on yours with all of the intensity of a predator.

And for your part, you had never felt more like prey in your life. Every instinct told you to run as far away from this creature as fast as you could… but you were frozen stiff, unable to look away from his gaze.

It was as though your lungs had stopped working, some primal force telling you not to move, not to breathe because if you did you would be caught.

He was just a troll.

Just a person like every other troll at this party.

_run_

Just a person.

Yet the terror you felt was palpable… vision tunneling to just him. You could swear you saw his eyes flash.

_Run_

And you could swear you could feel something scratching at... whispering in the back of your head. Indecipherable except the little voice hissing at you to run.

_**RUN** _

He blinked finally, lips curling into a placid smile as he gave a little wave and signed something. You swallowed, only slightly nervous.

Of course he was just a person.

He wasn’t some scary predator ready to tear you apart.

He was just a person.

(So why did you feel such a sudden terror).

There was no reason to feel scared. He was just a normal, really tall, lanky, mime guy.

(So why had you felt something clawing at the back of your mind.)

You took a few minutes to calm your racing heart as you gulped down some more eggnog, moving back over to the table to refill your cup.

“Hi!” You nearly jumped out of your skin despite the friendly, pleasant tone. You took a very controlled look at the person next to you.

"Howdy.” You replied, doing your best to take them in…. They were smaller than you, wearing a worn black hoodie with a cerulean zigzag and an incredibly friendly smile on their face. They weren’t a troll… but they definitely weren’t a human either. You weren’t quite sure what they were honestly… but you concluded that they were very much friend-shaped.

Shaped like the platonic ideal of a friend one might even say.

They held out their small hand and you took it, giving them a firm handshake. (A firm handshake was always the best way to go. A firm handshake could get you a lot of places.)

"I’m M̸̷̸̴̸̷̶̴̸̵̵̸̷̷̸̷̵̶̶̶̷̴̷̷̸̷̷̵̷̶̷̷̸̸̵̸̷̵̶̵̴̴̶̸̴̴̴̶̵̸̵̷̵̷̷̵̵̴̸̷̷̵̸̵̵̴̸̷̵̴̸̶̷̷̶̸̵̸̶̷̶̵̴̷̴̸̵̶̷̷̸̶̵̷̴̸̶̵̴̴̸̸̸̷̷̴̵̵̷̷̴̸̶̶̸̷̸̵̵̶̴̵̴̶̶͉͒S̸̸̷̶̶̷̸̸̶̷̸̸̶̷̸̸̴̸̶̵̵̷̴̸̸̴̶̶̷̶̵̷̴̷̷̶̸̸̶̷̵̷̸̸̵̷̴̸̷̶̸̶̶̷̸̴̸̸̸̴̵̴̸̶̶̸̷̷̸̶̴̵̶̸̶̵̴̶̴̸̵̷̶̸̷̷̶̵̸̷̷̸̶̷̵̷̸̴̴̴̶̶̴̶̵̷̵̶̵̶̷̴̷̸̶̴̴̷̷̷̴̶̸̴̸̘̓P̸̸̶̶̷̸̶̷̴̷̷̸̸̶̶̵̶̴̷̵̴̸̷̵̶̶̴̵̸̶̴̸̶̵̷̵̷̴̸̶̵̵̶̵̸̵̸̵̵̵̸̸̶̵̵̶̷̸̴̸̷̴̴̴̵̵̵̴̵̷̴̴̶̸̸̵̷̵̴̸̶̸̷̵̷̴̸̶̴̴̴̸̵̸̷̷̷̴̵̷̵̷̴̵̸̴̴̷̶̷̵̵̷̴̷̸̵̷̷̸̸̸̴̸̷̠̉Ȁ̷̷̶̷̷̴̷̵̶̷̷̸̵̵̸̴̸̸̸̸̷̵̴̶̵̶̷̶̵̷̴̵̴̸̵̷̴̴̴̵̷̸̶̸̷̵̴̸̸̴̸̴̵̸̴̵̸̵̴̵̶̵̸̸̷̶̴̶̵̵̵̸̵̶̴̶̵̵̶̸̶̴̷̷̵̵̴̷̷̷̶̴̶̴̶̸̵̵̸̷̴̷̷̵̶̶̶̸̸̵̶̷̵̸̸̸̸̶̴̸̷̸̴̴̷̡Ȑ̵̴̵̴̴̵̶̸̵̷̸̸̵̴̷̵̷̴̴̸̸̶̶̴̶̸̷̷̵̶̵̷̵̸̴̸̴̴̸̴̴̸̶̵̵̶̸̶̷̷̸̴̷̸̷̵̴̸̴̷̵̸̴̵̸̸̶̵̶̸̸̷̷̴̴̶̴̵̷̵̸̶̸̴̸̷̷̸̷̶̸̴̸̷̷̸̷̶̴̴̴̸̶̶̵̵̷̴̵̴̶̷̴̶̵̷̸̸̸̶̸̶̷̷̷͜,” When they said their name it sounded like nothing and everything yet somehow perfect. Their warm eyes flickered and flashed with green light, “But you can call me The Mailman.”

What a fun nickname.

You gave them your own and they nodded. “Are you a postal worker?”

They just laughed, a charming sound that put you at ease. “I guess you could call me that. I guess that’s what I’ve been doing for… wow it’s been a while. Ages. I think Ages is a good way to put it.” They grinned, pouring themself a mug of their own. “I couldn’t help but notice you look like you could use a friend.”

It was your turn to let out a laugh. “Am I that obviously out of my depth?”

“A little. But it’s okay, everyone has to start somewhere… and not everyone is good at parties.” They patted you on the shoulder, “I hear that you’ve been helping Eridan.” They said after a moment.

“Oh, yeah. I’m his math tutor.”

“That’s not what I meant.” They haphazardly steered you away from the crowd to a window bench where they sat and looked out over the crowd. “He’s gone down some very dark paths… there’s a lot of bad in him, and I haven’t had much time to guide him this time around. I was kind of scared he’d revert back to full on destroyer of **HOPE** instead of with **HOPE** , y’know? He’s always been one of the trickier ones to know what to do for. And Cronus....” They just let out a low whistle, "He's... a lot to deal with. Way more energy than I have to spare. Not that I don't want to see him do well, it's just the chaotic nature of **BARDS**. You'd think it'd be the **ROGUES** that go rogue, but nope... it's always the **BARDS**. At least his destructive abilities are passive, not active so they end up more focused on himself than others so he's relatively harmless to the timeline."

“Earth Ω has been a lot of work… I’ve spent millenia planning things, getting it just right, but there are a lot of outside influences trying to get in.”

… Was this… was this god?

“You have no idea how taxing it’s been making sure that this timeline remains uncorrupted from outside forces. So I’m glad that some of my friends are still getting the help they need even if I can’t always be there.” And then they looked at you, and you had never felt so seen in your entire life. “You have **NARRATIVE INFLUENCE** , a lot of it. I like feeling that in people even if it can scramble some of my plans. It takes some of the pressure off….”

“Every single person at this party has spent so many lifetimes suffering just because the universe demanded it. Just once I want to see them _all_ have a happy ending… and I think this is as close as I’ll be able to get without any of them disappearing from existence completely.”

They spoke at length about so many different things and you were just drunk enough to suspend some of your disbelief. There was something about them that screamed ‘ _Trust me’…_ and though everything they said sounded too far fetched to be true, you couldn’t help but listen. And honestly you were beginning to think that maybe this was god, or maybe you should just lay off the eggnog….

(It was too good to stop though. When were you ever going to get this good ‘nog again?)

“Man it feels good to talk about this with someone who hasn’t been directly involved with the planning and execution.” They swung their beautifully sensual legs for a moment, “I got the most talented posse assembled in all of spacetime, but sometimes I miss being just a normal friendslut, y’know? And I can’t burden the kids with this knowledge… that’s why I did all of this in the first place. To let them be kids. To give them _all_ a future where they could be happy. Fuck sad endings. All my homies hate sad endings.”

You nodded along, still very confused about the whole situation. “Sad endings do indeed suck, yeah. But what you’re saying is super far fetched? Like what do you mean multiple lifetimes? Like… parallel universes?”

“Yeah sort of, I guess. But it’s more like every single action has a **RIPPLE** which changes the course of the timeline… and not every timeline is viable especially with the multiverse basically existing to ensure **LE** comes into existence. I’m mostly hopped up on friendship juice and some cray cray power-ups and as we all know, the power of friendship is more powerful than even spacetime.” They flexed. “It took a lot of meditation to understand what **RIPPLES** could be changed and what couldn’t though. But how could I not with so much at stake?”

The mailman got serious after a moment, meeting your eyes with their own that seemed to swirl and glow with all the intensity of a sun. “Not every good **DECISION** is straightforward.” They looked down at their phone (one of those weird bug ones that showed some serious wear and tear) pat your shoulder and smiled again. “Anyways I’ve probably taken up enough of your time. Enjoy the rest of the party.” And just like that they were gone. You blinked a few times, looking around, seeing them skittering along with inhuman speed as they began a conversation with a woman in red, horns curling like a ram’s with wild black hair and a wide, unnerving, chaotic smile on her face.

You wanted to say “wait, don’t go, I have so many questions,” but they were already well out of earshot unless you wanted to shout.

Well it wasn’t like what they said was even true anyway… even though you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Maybe if you had some more Christmas food....

You wandered over, picking up some snowflake shaped cookies and what looked and smelled like mulled cider. You stared at the mug of eggnog and the mug of cider and the cookies.

Why couldn’t you have three hands….

You shoved the cookies into your sweater pocket like the _fucking_ _genius_ you were before setting out to explore the sprawling downstairs. Navigating the sea of people while a bit inebriated was a task and a half, but you finally managed to escape the crowd for the most part. Wandering down a well lit hall you'd never been down before, but you could see a Christmas tree in the next room so you were pretty sure it wasn't off limits. There were still a few people here; a couple of teenagers, a fashionable troll and human holding hands and having a very involved conversation about the psychological nuances of that kind of coercive song where the man tries to get the woman to stay the night.

You did your best to bother them as little as possible, sipping on your cider and wandering further into the room with the tree.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

_Hello._

Hanging on the wall above a luxurious fireplace sat a massive portrait of a troll, two jagged scars running along his face. His expression could only be described as imperious, lips forming a hard line, piercing violet eyes seeming to follow you as you moved.

This dude radiated a very powerful DILF-energy.

This dude was a DILF.

You didn't know his name, but you still put his up at the top of your Celebrity Sex List. Okay sure, he wasn't a human celebrity but a portrait this big and fancy had to count for something. And maybe he was a troll celebrity or something (probably more along the lines of a historical figure given the style of the painting... not that you really knew much about troll paintings but it kind of reminded you of a portrait of Napoleon or George Washington or something... But like if they were sexy).

That man was... exceptional.

You weren't even necessarily that into the daddy kink but if that man wanted to be called daddy you would damn well do it _._ He could _Get it._

_Hot Damn._

You took another gulp of your eggnog.... You'd been staring too long. People would probably notice and that would make things awkward. You promptly turned around and started examining some ornaments on the tree trying to make yourself seem inconspicuous even though there were maybe a total of four people around.

You sipped on some more of your cider.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the two teens you had passed by earlier making out on one of the arm chairs in the corner. So you awkwardly made your way out of the room and back into the hall.

You could hear Mariah Carey coming from the main hall and stopped dead in your tracks when you saw several juggalos krumping to her Christmas carols.

You'd had way too much eggnog hadn't you.

Way too much eggnog.

But they were still there and dancing after you blinked, so you concluded two things: This was very real, and was one of the most beautiful displays of unrestrained holiday merrimaking you'd ever seen. They were enjoying Mariah Carey as she should be enjoyed.

"Dam this bih has some srs range. Wonder if she'd wanna do a duet w/ da hottest troll rhyme jugg'ler this side a the milky way." Said the most beautiful and entrancing voice you'd ever heard in your life, and you turned to look at a big troll in jaggalo make-up, a slutty Santa outfit that showed off most of his impeccable chest, and impressively shiny hair down to his ass. "U kno if she'd be down w/ the clown?"

You wanted to say something, anything to keep you from looking like a very stupid, open-mouthed buffoon. He gave you a warm, laid-back smile that melted every bone in your body. "U ok lil buddy?"

"Y-yeah." You managed to stutter.

He just chuckled. "Gotta admit i kinda like this world a lot more n i thot i wuld. Wen my cray lil friendslut first proposed a place like this obvi i saw it in the cards but it was a loooong way off ya dig? im glad i came along 4 the ride tho. Shiiiz iz wildin."

You nodded along as though you were able to piece anything that came out of his mouth together.

Something dangerous and knowing lurked in his eyes as your locked with his. "i luv games jus as much as da next clown, but imma b real wit u b. Sumthin rly Big w/ a capital B cld b happenin 2nite now i dunno wat that sheeet iz yet but i can see dis timeline divergin n gettin all kindz a fxxxked up ya dig?"

"Sure?"

"Wut im gettin at is dat sumhow in all the multiverses out dere u got sum sort of narrative influence... evry decision u make haz consequences. So just make gud decisions so we cn all have a fxxxxxk ton of fun 2nite." He gave you a jovial wink before spinning you around to the beat and dancing off to the next room which erupted into cheers upon his entry.

You polished off the rest of your eggnog.

You took it back, you were definitely nowhere near drunk for this.

It was an impulse decision really… the bottle of bourbon you had pilfered from their extraordinarily well stocked liquor cabinet in your hand calling out to you. You already had a mug of eggnog resting on the kitchen island, but you’d already had plenty of it, and a hot toddy sounded really good. Was bourbon your favorite? Absolutely not. But Martha Stewart had made that recipe sound so good….

And it had looked so pretty the way she had dressed it up with that star anise and cinnamon stick.

You searched around until you found a pot, grateful that the kitchen was empty. Being around so many people at once was draining. Being around that many strangers at once? Torture. If you weren’t so drunk, you’d leave but you weren’t in any state to drive.

In fact, you should have probably stopped drinking a while ago, you mused to yourself as you heated up the bourbon on their nice stove and threw some cinnamon and lemon in with it. You couldn’t find any honey so you added some sugar….

There was something you were forgetting… but for the life of you you couldn’t remember. Butter? Orange? You’re pretty sure it started with an A. Anise? No.

Tea!

That was it.

You began rummaging around looking for something like tea. Did trolls even drink tea? Shit….

After a moment you found packets of something that smelled a lot like lavender and chamomile so you grabbed those and threw one into the pot… probably close enough to tea. You let it boil for a minute then took it off the heat.

As you looked around for another mug, you noticed that across the hall facing the back of the house in one of those weird limbo foyer rooms that had a glass door to some sort of patio that you’d never actually gotten to see, Cronus sat at the bottom of a large staircase very much alone as he stared out the window.

The strange shadows cast by the twinkling multicolored Christmas lights and the dimness of the room gave him an unearthly quality… (probably because he was an alien) and he…. He looked as lonely as you’d been feeling, and you found couldn’t help but feel something awaken in your gut.

The truest difference that set humans apart from every other species. The spirit of Christmas, some may have called it, but it was deeper than that; Primal, powerful, instinctual. The reason almost all societies celebrated the winter solstice, the reason why people could believe that the nights that were coldest and darkest and least hospitable could be the warmest and brightest of them all.

Compassion.

You finally found a mug to put the very hot toddy in, grabbed your own eggnog, and before you knew it, you couldn’t help but follow your feet as they carried you over. He didn’t seem to notice you, or maybe he just didn’t really care.

“Would have thought you’d be out there trying to hit on everyone.” You finally spoke, rousing him from his own thoughts. Cronus finally turned to face you, expression uncharacteristically candid.

He gave a soft, humorless chuckle. “Yeah well, even _I_ can only get so many bitches in one night. I’m just one man after all… I get tired too, but I suppose if you really wanted I could squeeze you into my _very_ full black book.” He gave you a halfhearted smile and a wink.

“Yeah that really sounds just like you. Covered in honeys, have to beat them away with a broom just to walk. So glad you could finally find the space to breathe… but I guess with the axe bodyspray that’s pretty hard even when you’re by yourself.”

“It’s actually Calvin Klein bodyspray thank you very much.”

“That doesn’t make it any better… just more pretentious and expensive.”

He shuffled a bit to make room for you on the polished surface. You sat next to him, holding out the hot toddy you had just made. “Here. You look like you need this more than I do.”

The softness in his features immediately sharpened into place as he gave you his patented sharky fuckboy smile. “Fell right into the classic Christmas trap.” He pointed upwards to where a little bouquet of mistletoe hung and waggled his eyebrows.

“I have to warn you,” You sighed heavily, shaking your head at your own foolishness. Of course this disgusting little fish man would try to lure you into something salacious. “This alcohol is very hot and I will pour it on you if you keep being gross.”

He sputtered, putting his hands up. “I’m just trying to honor a human tradition. Trying to celebrate your culture because unlike you _I’m_ open-minded and not xenophobic! No need to get hostile, kitten. Jeegus….”

“I’m in a very _happy_ and committed relationship so I’m gonna need you to tone back the horniness by like…. At least eighty percent. Okay?”

“Fiiiiine.” He grumbled, but took the mug you were offering with a peculiar expression that you couldn’t quite place. Probably because you were pretty drunk and he was an alien, you mused, nursing a little more of your eggnog.

“Wait… shit, are you even old enough to drink? Like… legally? Don’t wanna be giving alcohol to a minor.”

“Too late, chief. You already gave it to me, therefore it’s mine. Ain’t no take-backs in the Ampora hive- house. But I’m twelve, if it makes you feel any better.”

It most certainly did not make you feel any better.

Oh god you just gave a mug of bourbon to a twelve year old.

“No! Give it back, you’re too young to have that.” You reached for the mug, but he held it away.

“Oh my god, kitten I’m almost thirteen sweeps old. I’m pretty sure I can drink all the soporifics I want.”

Sweeps…. You blanked out for a moment.

Sweeps.

You racked your brain for the conversion table you’d memorized after first contact…. It was two-ish years to a sweep which made him… around twenty five? Okay that made you feel a little better.

“You uh… you okay there, kitten?” Cronus gave you a concerned look.

“Yeah, sorry, doing math drunk.” You gave him a thumbs up. “You’re an adult, you can do whatever you want.”

“I’m pretty sure I just told you that.”

“No. Here on Earth, twelve years old is just a kid. So giving you alcohol would be bad. But you’re over twenty so it’s fine. We gucci.”

He snorted, “Oh my glub, sometimes I forget you guys don’t measure shit in sweeps. Sorry, thirteen’s like one of the big adult markers… Yeah something like twenty five years or whatever for you guys.”

Cronus took a big gulp from the mug, eyes going wide, coughing and wheezing as it went down. “ _Poison!”_ He managed to hiss out as he looked at the drink. “Holy shit what the fuck did you even put in there?”

“Rude! It’s a hot toddy. It has bourbon and cinnamon and tea in it.”

“Well it tastes like shit.”

You scoffed, shoving his shoulder. “I spent so long making that special… like at _least_ an hour... _probably_. I poured my soul into that drink.”

“Yeah, well your soul tastes like shit.” He grinned, taking another sip and making a face of disgust. “This is literally so bad.”

“Then give it back, jackass.” You reached for it, but he held it away again.

“No, it’s mine.”

“But you hate it! So give it back!”

“Yes, it’s incredibly disgusting, but it’s mine now so you can’t have it. No take-backs.” God he really was just like a petulant child. A rude, petulant child.

“You know how a gestalt is more than the sum of its parts?” Cronus asked after another sip of the hot toddy, giving you a side-eye. You nodded and he continued. “Well this is like that but the opposite. What’s in this cup is less than the sum of its parts. I’m pretty sure this is literally poison.”

“Then stop drinking it.”

He locked eyes with you and took another swig, never breaking eye contact. “This is the most disgusting thing I think I have ever tasted, and I once drank a bottle of squeakbeast poison on a dare. I’m pretty sure if the military got a hold of this, they would use it to torture prisoners.”

“Seriously, if you hate it that much give it back.”

“Nope, it’s crispmass and you gave me a gift. Even if it’s the worst gift anyone’s ever given me.” His words were slurred, v’s and w’s blurring together.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and leaning back against the next step up. From this angle you could see lavender from the Christmas lights bouncing off the thin membranes of his fins. And maybe it was the alcohol, or the faint nostalgic music coming from the other room, but you couldn’t help but stare. Polished orange horns shining with little rainbows dots, a small smile on his grey lips. He was breathtakingly pretty.

“At least you gave me a present I guess. None of my other asshole friends did. Like I get most of them are gutterblood trash-”

He just had to ruin the mood, didn’t he.

“Shooshooshoosh.” You grimaced and put your finger on his lips to quiet him and he froze; Stock still, eyes wide as he stared at you like a deer in the headlights. “God, you’re so fucking pretty, but literally everything that comes out of your stupid mouth is ugly.” You snapped. “So just… shut the actual fuck up for a little while.”

His fins fluttered a little and he seemed to look everywhere except directly at you. You realized after a few moments that you still had your finger on him and removed it, but didn’t look away. In the dim light of the room you could faintly see a violet flush tinting his cheeks, another one of those peculiar expressions on is face.

For a few minutes there was a blissful silence except for the muffled music as Cronus worried his bottom lip between his sharp teeth. “You... You really think I’m pretty….?” He asked after a while, finally turning to face you.

You shrugged, drinking some more eggnog. “Sure. When you’re not being a complete and total d-bag, so uh… very infrequently. You’re kind of a douche a lot.”

He let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“But like... physically? You’ve got a lot going for you…. For an alien I guess. Not that I really know how you guys measure physical attractiveness. But by human standards… your aesthetic is immaculate probably.” You gave him an appraising look and his fins fluttered again. “But your vibes are rancid as fuck, dude.”

His lips curled back in a sneer showing off those perfectly even teeth, and you couldn’t help but wonder if trolls had orthodontics… Were those perfect teeth the product of genetics or did he have to wear braces as a kid. You failed to stifle a snicker at the thought.

It seemed to throw him off guard because the threat display dropped immediately.

“I don’t get it. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just alien braces.” You waved him off.

He gave you a quizzical look, but didn’t press you for any more details. He fell silent once more, staring down into the depths of the mug in his hands, fingers fidgeting and clenching. The Christmas music hung heavy in the air.

_The_ _snow’s coming down_

_I’m watching it fall_

_Lots of people around_

_Baby please come home_

A pang of went through your heart and your grip on your eggnog tightened….

“So where’s this boyfriend you keep talking about?” Cronus asked. “Afraid I’d steal him away from you if he came? After all, I am pretty _and_ taller than you.” He raised an eyebrow, lopsided grin growing on his face.

You swallowed, sighing and closing your eyes, already regretting telling him that he was attractive as you tried to drown out the Christmas music through sheer force of will.

“He uh… he’s in Minnesota.”

“Gesundheit.”

A soft laugh escaped your throat. “Halfway ‘cross the country.” You explained.

“Oh shit… What’s he doing out there on crispmas?” You chanced a glance over at him, and were surprised to see his brow furrowed, head tilted… he looked… genuinely concerned.

“He lives out there… so does his family.” You were thankful when your voice didn’t crack or waver. “I was supposed to go visit him, but y’know,” You shrugged, “Life happens.”

“Shit, chief, so you’re tellin’ me,” He paused to let out a bewildered half chuckle. “You’re tellin’ me you’re in a relationship and you _still_ ain’t getting any...?” He made an odd, but recognizably lewd gesture with his hand.

“Relationships are about more than sex, Cronus.” You mumbled, trying not to think about the fact that you were going to be very, very alone this Christmas.

“Well, yeah. I know that.” He rolled his eyes. “But like… don’t you get lonely?”

Your jaw clenched, you were simultaneously way too drunk and not drunk enough for this conversation. “Nope. Never.”

Loneliness whom? You do not know her. (If you tell yourself enough, it’ll be true. That’s how emotions work, right?)

He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing as he searched you for something.

Ah fuck, was he making an insight check? Is that what insight checks looked like? Did you roll high enough on your deception?

“Humans are fuckin’ weird as hell.” The sea-troll said after a few moments. “I just don’t get it. Like what kind of quadrant are you even in that that sort of distance makes sense? I thought you guys were flushed but you ain’t even pailing so what’s the point of it?”

“Pailing?” What kind of bullshit was he on about now….

“Sex.” Cronus opened his mouth as if to say more, but closed it with an exasperated huff instead. He definitely looked like he wanted to keep probing you for more information, but he just stared into the contents of his mug.

_I’d hold back this tear_

_But it’s Christmas day_

_Baby please come home_

_Baby please come home_

Michael Buble finally finished his pining, and were immediately assaulted by Elvis pleading with Santa to bring his baby back to him.

Fuck… you could just not catch a break tonight.

The fuckboy next to you was unusually silent, leaving you stewing in your own thoughts like some sort of asshole without distracting you. How absolutely inconsiderate of him.

Finally an overtly commercial musical Christmas classic started playing, tacky, respectable Christmas music that wasn’t constantly reminding you that your boyfriend was halfway across the country and your family was on a different continent.

Actually... a few songs passed (which you’d begun humming along to) before Cronus spoke again.

“Why doesn’t anyone like me?”

His voice was soft as he stared longingly into the other room, past the set of french glass doors where the rest of the party was; silhouettes of people mingling and muffled laughter. “I… I know people don’t like me, I just don’t understand. No matter what I do and…. I try so, so hard… but I just can’t figure out what people want. I….” He trailed off.

You watched him for a moment, but he never stopped gazing through the glass.

“Do you want an honest answer?” Normally, you would revel in the chance to make an exhaustive list of his many flaws, but the expression on his face was so different from what you were used to, and the warmth of Bing Crosby’s voice made you pause.

And you think you may have finally figured out what Cronus was about.

He looked at you with big violet eyes, chewing on his bottom lip, then nodded.

And everything about him hit just a little too close to home.

“Well,” You took a deep breath, “I… I think I get you now. Where you’re coming from at least… because I’ve been there before. And I guess I want to help you,” And began to explain to him exactly why he was such an unlikable bastard starting with the callous way he treated his friends that you had overheard (honestly you weren’t even sure if you could call them friends with how clearly he was despised and mostly for very good reason), blatant attempts at manipulating people into sleeping with him, his casual use of what you’re pretty sure are slurs, or at least incredibly really rude words, how there’s nothing genuine about how he presents himself, finishing on a softer note with the overwhelming amount of body spray and cologne he wore.

And to his credit, he just sat there and listened (though his fins drooped more and more with each new bullet point).

You did your best to be as constructive as possible, but the increasingly dejected look on his face left you feeling… less satisfied than how you would have imagined a moment like this would feel. When you finished, you couldn’t help but reach down and take his hand in your own, threading your fingers together.

He was cold to the touch, skin smooth besides a few thin ridges along the sides of his fingers. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing just a bit, squeezing your hand back tight enough to almost be uncomfortable.

You sat like that for a little while, hand in hand

You took another sip of your eggnog, starting to get a little sick of the taste.

Cronus’ eyes were glassy as though he was blinking back tears, and you felt kind of bad. It was definitely something that he had to hear, and you’d tried to do it as tactfully as possible… but you were very drunk, and you weren’t great with words or comforting or emotions even when you weren’t.

Fuck… you’re pretty sure you heard him sniffle a little.

“If I’m really so awful, why’d you even come over here?” His voice wavered a little, but didn’t crack, staring down into his hot toddy (that you had so painstakingly prepared and was probably delicious as hell and not at all disgusting like Cronus kept insisting).

You took a moment, breathing deeply and giving his hand a squeeze.

“Because no one deserves to be alone on Christmas.” He finally looked back at you again, violet eyes locking with your own… damn even when he was a wreck he was pretty. You wished you were half that pretty when you were having an existential crisis.

And before you even realized what you were doing, you had brought his hand to your lips to place a chaste kiss to his knuckles.

It couldn’t have lasted for more than half a second, but you had never seen anyone look so incredibly flustered in their life. His eyes went wide, almost round like egg yolks with little violets in them, a deep flush on his cheeks, fins flicking. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water (you would have laughed if you hadn’t been too drunk to realize the appropriateness of the analogy), but all that came out was a shaky exhale.

Cronus looked away and buried his face in his forearm, a very alien clicking sound coming from his throat, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You know I really thought we had a good black rapport…. I thought you hated me….” He mumbled after a minute with a little drunk giggle.

Well he wasn’t wrong… you definitely hated him. Or at least… you hated everything he represented. Or… you thought you did.

“Well, I mean you definitely weren’t my favorite person in the world…. But hate’s a little harsh.” (To say out loud.)

He snorted. “Oh I was definitely waxin’ pitch for ya. I thought that’s why you gave me this gross drink.”

“It’s delicious, and if you keep insulting my beautiful concoction I’m gonna get mad.”

His laugh was breathy, “No, it’s legitimately disgusting as hell.” The troll chanced a glance at you, cheeks still flushed a bit, a candid, lopsided smile on his face. “’m not even pitch flirting right now, this is the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

You huffed. “Well no accounting for taste….”

There was a lull as you got sidetracked by Bing Crosby singing Rudolph, which of course you couldn’t help but hum along.

“Do–” Cronus graciously waited for you to finish before continuing. “Do you want to be moirails...? Like with me, I mean…. Us as moirails.” He seemed torn between looking at you and at the floor, leg bouncing up and down.

Fuck.

You were pretty sure that was an alien romance thing, but he was being moderately tolerable right now, so you were going to give him the benefit of the doubt and ask first.

“Is that one of your troll romance things?”

He nodded shyly.

God, what a mess….

You were very much not looking for another relationship… things were good with Phil. And even if you were looking, Cronus wasn’t exactly your first pick… or your second… or third. In fact, in terms of people you actively wanted a romantic relationship with, he was pretty far down the list. Like maybe as a one night stand to broaden your horizons on alien biology (the way those fishnets had shown off those slate grey thighs of his on Halloween had not escaped your notice as much as you’d liked to deny it….), but as an actual romantic partner… absolutely not.

“Before– Before you say anything, it’s not one a’ the sex ones.” He elaborated. “Unless you want it to be of course let’s be real I’m always dtf, but it’s about like pale emotions and like soft stuff and feelings jam piles….” He got increasingly fidgety as he went on, finally he ran his hand through his hair and mumbled out a quick, “Actually don’t answer please….”

You gave his hand a squeeze and a little “Just honorin’ the old human tradition of mistletoe, kitten, but you got it, chief, I ain’t answerin’ nothin’.” You replied in an imitation of his ridiculous, inauthentic Brooklyn accent which made him laugh. You absolutely did not have enough time for more than one romantic entanglement (you barely had time for the one, honestly), and even if you did, something told you that Phil wouldn’t be open to a romantic interloper even if you weren’t having sex. Not that you based all of your decisions on Phil of course.

Cronus drank some more of the hot toddy, lips pulling back over his sharp teeth in disgust.

“I swear to god if you say one more bad thing about my delicious tod hotty I’m gonna punch you.”

He gave you a shit eating grin and bumped your shoulder with his.

“Hey, you wanna see somethin’ I never showed anyone ‘fore?” He asked, that big smile still fixed on his face as he stood up (slightly hunched so as to keep holding your hand).

You got up to follow him. “Cronus, I swear to god if it’s your weird alien dick I’m gonna get one of those giant clowns to beat you to death.”

“Hey now, don’t be hasty. My bulge is pretty fuckin’… majestic and amazing and great and beautiful, and I will definitely give you a hands on demonstration of all it can do if you wanna see it,” He replied with a wink as he brought you down a dim corridor to a door. “But no, that’s not what I was gonna show ya.”

He opened the door and began to lead you down a _very_ dark stairwell. “Wait, are you bringing me down here to kill me?” You asked, taking a cautious step as you felt your way down, half resisting his tug to get you to go faster. Stairs were already hard when you were drunk… stairs that you couldn’t see… that was like master mode. “Are you gonna cask of amontillado me, bro?” You started snickering. “Ah yes, chief, I have a rare vintage down here. Quite refined for your palate, here this way, my dear, if you’d like to see it.”

“Oh boy would I!” You replied to yourself in an enthusiastic falsetto, “Of course I’ll go down to the wine cellar with you to go get it. You certainly have nothing nefarious planned.” You were full on ugly laughing now. “You just want me to stand over there? Oh sure, of course! Those bricks and mortar surely aren’t meant to trap me within the walls–”

Your heart skipped a beat as your foot slipped and you began to fall forward.

Oh god… this was how you were going to die, wasn’t it.

Here in some rich fuck’s basement, drunk at the foot of the steps (in Jersey no less, the armpit of America) before you had even gotten your doctorate… all that debt for nothing. You hadn’t even seen your boyfriend in person yet…. Who would tell him of your demise?

What would they even say at your funeral? There lies what’s-their-name, they were studying something at some college. They died in New Jersey and ruined everyone’s Christmas by making them all come back there where we will inter their body….

You were dead.

You had died.

Against a cold wall.

Covered in eggnog.

What a waste.

“You okay, kitten?” The wall shifted under you.

“No… I’m dead.” You mumbled into what felt like fabric.

“Are… you sure about that? You look pretty alive to me.” He placed a large hand on your shoulder and steadied you. “Look, babe, I know that it feels like human heaven when you’re in my arms, but you only fell like maybe three feet. I know you guys ‘re fragile and stuff, but I don’t think that’d kill ya.”

“Oh….” You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light as Cronus flipped the switch. Yeah, you were definitely alive and in a wine cellar (it had those fancy lattice shelves that stored wine bottles, but they were mostly empty. “You aren’t really going to cask of amontillado me, are you? Please say you’re not going to imprison me in the walls….”

“What the fuck are you even talking about, kitten? I don’t know what that is.” He took your hand again and tugged you forward as he kept moving. Between two of the shelves there was another hallway which he led you down. “C’mon, I ain’t gonna hurt ya, I promise.”

He opened another door and turned on the lights.

It… looked like a sound booth with a few instruments and microphones.

“This is my music studio.” A giant, toothy smile was on his face when you looked at him. “Pops really doesn’t like my music so I do it all down here where he can’t hear it.” He looked a little sheepish, sitting down in the lone chair in the room next to a keyboard and a piano. “But this is where the Cronus Ampora magic happens… or where it would happen if magic wasn’t fake as shit. Where- Where the Cronus Ampora _music_ happens. There we go, that’s what I meant to say.”

“Cool.” You nodded appreciatively. “ _Very_ cool.”

You were a goddamn word smith.

“Did you check out my soundcloud?” He asked hopefully.

Oh crap….

“Yes, yes I did check out your soundcloud.” You said with what you hoped was a straight face.

“What’d you think?” He looked excited, but let out a nervous chuckle. “No one I know takes the time out to actually listen to it so I don’t get to ask much.”

“Uhhhh….” You racked your brain for something to say about it other than, “It was very sexual.” Shit… you really said that out loud didn’t you.

Cronus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the point. Popular music is usually about love or sex, something like ninety-ish percent of the top billboard songs are about sex. Sex sells. People like sex. And let’s be real… that’s kind of my whole deal, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

You honestly didn’t know how to respond to that. Sure… a lot of songs on the radio had sexual themes… but…. “Did you… Did you actually research that? Is that an actual fact or like… something you’re guessing at?”

“No, it’s featured in about sixty percent of top hits on Alternia, but if you look at the whole quadrant system, that’s in about ninety five percent of top hits. And I wanted to see what sort of musical themes made up human music too…. You guys are at about ninety percent about erotic love themes in your most popular music.” He sort of shrugged, but waggled his eyebrows when your eyes met. “What can I say… It’s a compelling subject. And if you ever want a course in alien anatomy, kitten, you know I’m willin’ to tea–”

“What did I say about dialing the horniness back.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Nyeh, was worth a shot. But even you gotta admit you basically set yourself up for that one.”

“Committed and happy relationship.” You leaned against the wall, noting that there was still some eggnog in your mug (and here you had thought that it’d all spilled on you when you fell) and trying your hardest to quell that (purely scientific) curiosity about alien anatomy. “So, I see a keyboard, a piano, a guitar… how many instruments can you play?”

Cronus began mumbling, counting on his fingers, “Including the human ones I learned, like five? I think? Six if you count the synth.”

Holy shit.

“Holy shit. So you’re like… actually talented. I suppose you had to have some redeeming qualities other than just being pretty.” He squinted, and you amended, “Wow, that sounded a lot ruder than intended. I meant that that’s baller dude. That’s a lot of instruments and I’m very impressed.”

He flushed a little bit more, pleased grin showing off those shark teeth. He set the hot toddy on the top of the piano as he situated himself at his keyboard. “Do you wanna hear what I’m currently working on?”

Oh yay…. More alien sex music…. Fantastic.

But he was being so tolerable and open and crushing his music dreams on Christmas felt so wrong that you couldn’t help but manage a “sure, why the hell not?”

Cronus positively beamed, and his voice was so pretty, and the composition was decent, but the lyrics were just such garbage…. You made a game for yourself by counting the use of the word bulge… He’d said it over twenty times in a four minute period.

“And then the end is gonna go like this: Bulge, bulge, yank my bulge like you mean it.” He finished, looking over at you expectantly. Twenty three.

You tried to give him an encouraging smile, but you were pretty sure it looked like a grimace…. “How married are you to those lyrics?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Like… how attached to those lyrics are you? They’re kind of….” You racked your brain for a good way to word it. “Sub-optimal.”

His face fell. “Oh….”

“It just didn’t feel… genuine? Like it felt performative even for a song.” Geez, you were really doing this weren’t you. Your department head had accused you of being too blunt on multiple occasions, and here you were proving him right. “Music wise, it was fun, and your voice is very nice…. But the lyrics seem forced. You already have a bajillion songs about sex, isn’t there anything else you want to sing about? Maybe express a genuine emotion? Like when you look at a flower or something, how does that make you feel? Or like when you’re staring up at the stars at night contemplating existence, or even- even your favorite food. Haven’t you ever tried to sing about those things instead? Or to tell a story?”

“Like… music can be such a magical medium. It’s so versatile, and you have so much potential if you’d just… I dunno, explore some more of that versatility, and get yourself out of that sexual lyrics only mindset.”

Cronus regarded you with a mixture of concern, disbelief, and what you really hoped was thoughtfulness (but honestly looked a lot like revulsion). “Magic is fake as shit…. But I’ll… I’ll think about it. Maybe.”

It definitely sounded a lot more like a placating response than something he genuinely felt, but it was a start at least.

He leaned back, expression relatively neutral as he looked you up and down (making you feel less uncomfortable than usual). “So, got any requests? More of that crispmas music?”

You shrugged, “I guess whatever you feel like playing? Although I’m really not feeling the whole eros thing right now so like…. I dunno.”

You were so fucking eloquent.

“C’mon, you always have strong opinions. _Always._ ”

“Damn, B, that’s a lot of pressure to put on a bitch.” You replied, sliding down the wall to the floor. “Play me your prettiest non-sexual song.”

He just laughed. “Babe, all songs are sexual. Even if they don’t sound like they are, I can guarantee they’re about sex. Everything people do is about sex.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded by the coldest take you’d ever heard spoken aloud. Sure, you’d heard the argument before (usually by crusty old white authors), but you never thought anyone ever believed them.

“Is it though? Like this, right here. I’m here trying to be your friend in a non-sexual capacity, and my following you down here was not motivated by sex other than maybe the desire _not_ to have sex with you… because I don’t know if you’ve picked up on many of the incredibly subtle hints I’ve been leaving for you like a little crumb trail, I don’t want to have sex with you. Period.”

Cronus pouted a little. “Okay, valid. Mean, but valid.”

You snorted, “That’s hardly the meanest thing I’ve said to you even tonight.”

“That’s very true. You’re very mean to me.” He batted his eyelashes at you. “What do you want me to play?”

“Uhhh… I guess just do what you want? I just am not in the mood for sex music, it’s just not my thing. No offense to your music or your attempts at trying to seem deep.”

He scoffed at you, rolling his eyes and taking another sip from the hot toddy.

“Hey, hey, hey, Cronus.” You nudged his foot with yours. “Play a song about how fucking great that delicious hot toddy is in a very non sexual way.”

That made the troll laugh. “I’m telling you with no ult- ult-” He paused for a moment, squinting in thought, “ _Fuck I know this word_ … _Ulterior_ motive right now, babe, this is awful.”

You gave him a dry look. “You keep saying that, but you still keep drinking it which means that it’s amazing and the best and not at all gross and that you should make a song about that hot toddy because obviously you feel very strongly about it. Do it do it do it.” You nudged his foot in time with your chanting. “Do iiiiiit.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll sing about your stupid drink, because you’re damn right I feel very strongly about it.” Cronus started up a tune on his keyboard and began to sing out, “It’s crispmas time on earth/ and it’s kind of a weird holiday/ you give and get gifts/ and someone gave me the worst drink ever as a gift/ and it doesn’t have a receipt so I can’t return it.” It didn’t really rhyme and wasn’t really on any specific key but he made a simple tune of it. “They keep insisting it’s great/ but I’m pretty sure they don’t have a sense of taste/ because it’s gross as hell and drinking it is killing my tongue/ but no one else even got me anything so I’ll keep drinking it/ and complain because it’s really shit.”

He stopped and gave you a smug as hell smile. “Happy?”

“Noooo….” You whined, but couldn’t help but return his grin because it was… nice. “It’s not gross!! It’s great!”

“I’m telling you, kitten, for real this is disgusting.”

“It’s delicious.”

He just raised an eyebrow, “Here. If it’s so delicious, you have some.”

“If you’re just trying to kill me with your alien saliva venom because those flowers didn’t work I’m gonna be mad.” Cronus just put his hands up as best he could as you reached for the offered cup and took a confident swig.

Oh…

Oh that was a mistake.

It took every shred of willpower to not spit it back up and out, and with a grimace you managed to swallow it down. The feeling of it going down your throat was unimaginable, burning, stripping your esophageal lining like varnish from a table.

The citrus and floral lavender aftertaste only exacerbated the feeling that you’d just drunk some sort of hazardous cleaning fluid.

“Delicious,” You coughed, putting the mug down.

His shoulders shook as he laughed at you. “Oh my glub, kitten, you should see your face right now!”

You looked at him through watery eyes. “I’m only making this face because your gross backwash is probably corrupting this amazing concoction I made.”

His laugh petered off, a deep violet flush on his face as he fidgeted a little, quiet for a moment. “I really thought we had some pitch tension… but like I know humans aren’t typically into that kind of stuff but I just really thought there was something there y’know? Like… fuck I’m pretty sure I was going somewhere with this but I’m pretty fucking drunk I’m not gonna lie.”

You snorted. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking toasted myself.”

Polishing off the last of the eggnog to get the taste of that…. _Fantastic_ hot toddy out of your mouth, you rested your head back against the wall, eyes closed. “I gotta admit this is a lot funner than getting wasted alone while shotgunning hallmark movies like crappy fair funnel cake.”

“What’s that?”

“Funnel cake or hallmark movies?”

“I guess both,” He said, leaning back in his chair.

“Well funnel cake is like… sweet fried dough with powdered sugar.” (Honestly you could go for one right now.) “And hallmark movies are really cheesy formulaic movies about like… finding stereotypical straight white people romance… but they’re kind of fun to watch. Like main plot is almost always some successful career person from the city goes to a little country town for their job and falls in love with some flannel wearing like woodcarver or farmer or something and then they quit their job to live the small country lifestyle. Real fluffy insubstantial shit but sometimes its nice to watch something low stakes that you know is going to work out in the end y’know?”

“Would you show me? If… if you want to I mean.” He looked a little sheepish. “I ain’t ever seen one ‘fore and so maybe it could be fun and stuff… not that I’m super into sappy shit but it’s crispmass. And you like them, right?”

“Sure why not.” At least it would give you something to do while you sobered up. And hell, maybe he was right, maybe it would be fun.

He positively beamed. “Awesome! – I mean uh… cool. Very cool. Just a couple of cool cats watching stupid movies.”

You snorted.

“See... the awesome was perfectly fine. You trying to make yourself sound cool was absolutely ridiculous and unnecessary and made it weird.”

“You’re ridiculous and unnecessary.” Cronus stuck his tongue out as he stood up, holding out a hand to you to help you up.

You took it, “What are you, twelve?”

“Yes.”

Ah yes, how could you have forgotten.

You went to give him a playful shove but he was like a rock. A dense, six and a half foot rock, and it had the opposite effect of you swaying a bit.

That shuckboy had the gall to just laugh at your expense like some sort of jerk, and you were about to respond but he just tugged you along out of his little sound studio and into another room along the same hallway. It was a fair size, well furnished with a large couch, a tv, some poofy bean bag chairs, a record player and several shelves filled with what looked like dozens if not more records, and a wall covered in pictures of John Travolta.

“This is my dude cavern.” Cronus said without a hint of shame.

And you fucking lost it, drunkenly giggling.

 _Dude_ _Cavern._

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing.” You mumbled, flopping onto the couch.

Ooo very plush. A+ couch.

He sat down next to you and when you didn’t move away he rested his head on your shoulder.

“Cronus, you reek of cologne. It’s offending my delicate human sensibilities.” You shoved him off.

“Yeah, I smell sexy as hell. But you? You smell like dairy products.”

 _Gross_.

You looked down at your damp sweater… eugh he was right you did smell like dairy (with a hint of cinnamon). God it was only gonna get grosser the longer you kept it on.

He looked at you quizzically. “Jeegus, kitten, you okay?”

“No. My sweater smells like milk.”

“Do….” He fidgeted again, “Do you want one of mine? I think I have a spare in here somewhere.”

The troll hopped off the couch and opened a door you hadn’t noticed before, rummaging around. He pulled something out, looking over at you before shaking his head and pulling out a different wad of cloth, tossing it over to you. “Try that one out.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, you’re literally standing right there. I’m not giving in to your shameless ploy to see me topless.”

He clicked his tongue, a static-y sort of soft buzz coming from him. That was a new one. “Fine. Don’t change then.”

Cronus sat down next to you again, still reeking of cologne. You wrinkled your nose. “I don’t mean to be a rude house guest but your cologne’s gonna give me a headache if I’m in prolonged proximity to it… I know it sounds silly, but I really do get headaches from aerosol scents….” God this was awkward…. Maybe you should just go. You were being rude. But you were drunk, and you kind of wanted to watch Hallmark movies…. The Mailman was right about at least one thing: sad endings sucked, and you wanted to watch some mindless holiday movies and see shit work out in the end. “Go make yourself smell less like a perfume department.”

“Fiiine I’ll go wash it off.” He got up again with a huff. “Unless you want to wash it off for me.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively but you just nudged (shoved) him with your foot. He went back to that same door, rummaging around and pulling some things out and heading over to yet another door you hadn’t noticed before.

(You really needed to brush up on your observation skills… though it was probably because you were drunk.)

Pausing to look at you one more time he asked, “Could you put on a movie? We have literally all of the cable. Human cable. Troll Cable. Streaming services ‘n shit too.”

He disappeared into what looked like a little bathroom from the glimpse you caught before he shut the door leaving you alone.

Bougie ass bitch. Rich people and their ‘cable’ services. You hadn’t paid for anything in years and you intended to keep it that way.

You flipped through about a thousand and one channels, self conscious about the milk smell that refused to be put out of your mind. Frustrated you tossed the remote on the couch, gave a hasty look at the door Cronus had gone into. You could still hear the sound of water running, so as quickly as you could, you shimmied out of your gross dairy clothes and into the hoodie he’d tossed you. It was massive, a deep plum color with that squiggly symbol the Amporas wore in lilac bordered by violet and gold. You practically felt like you were swimming in it. But it was dry, and warm, and smelled like detergent with only a hint of the body spray he usually wore and a faint briny scent that reminded you a little of nori. Altogether not unpleasant. (Actually you found you didn’t mind it at all).

You piled your eggnog drenched shirt and sweater next to the door so you would remember them later (kind of dreading putting them back on for your drive home), and switched the tv over to one of the streaming services. Finding a hallmark movie from there was no problem at all.

It still sounded like the water was going so you got up to check out one of the posters on the wall of John Travolta. Well at least you knew for a fact who Cronus was trying so hard to emulate. Although come to think of it, you rarely saw him in a leather jacket.

He'd been in there kind of a while... but you supposed that that was probably normal for someone with gills. You had begun to flip through a few of his records before the door opened.

Cronus looked…. Different.

Hair in a messy, damp, slightly curly mop instead of neatly slicked back with who knows how many products, wide circular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, clad in a hoodie and sweat pants. The hot toddy mug still clutched in his hand. (Had he brought that into the bathroom with him?)

There was something about him that felt eerily familiar though. You couldn’t quite place it until you saw the two scars on his forehead.

Two little twin lightning bolts.

You failed to stifle your giggle.

“Yeah, I get it. I just figured why not be comfortable since you’ve made it pretty fuckin’ clear we ain’t gonna fuck tonight….” He trailed off, looking at you intently, violet blush spreading from his cheeks to his fins.

“You look like troll Harry Potter,” You finally managed to wheeze out.

“Who?”

“Y’know, Harry Potter? The,” You snorted. “The little wizard boy? All you need is a little wand.” You wiped your eye a bit before laughing again.

His face fell immediately.

“You know, Expecto Patronum.” You waved your hand around.

“Wizards aren’t real and magic is fake as shit.” He snapped, sclera darkening from that eggy yellow to a dark orange, his lips pulled back over his teeth into a snarl.

Your laughter petered out.

Well that was unexpected.

“Which one of my friends put you up to this?” His eyes were bordering on red.

“W-what?”

“Which one of them put you up to this? It was Meenah wasn’t it?” The ceramic mug in his hand cracked, finally shattering, crushed into pieces.

You had known he was strong. Trolls typically were stronger than humans by default, but that… that was a lot of exerted pressure. You’d never seen him this angry before. Angry, sure.

This was new.

“Or was it Mituna? No that four horned bile snorter does his own dirty work. Aranea?”

“Cronus?”

“Kurloz? No that mime freak won't even talk….” He closed his eyes, turning his face away, pinching the bridge of his nose and tapping his foot in frustration. “Look I’m not… I’m not mad at you.” He ground out, finally turning to look at you again, face contorted into a forced smile. “I just want to know who the _Fuck_ put you _up to this_.”

Part of you knew that you should be cautious. You’ve never seen him like this. He was stronger than you, probably an obligate carnivore given the teeth, and could technically probably rip you to shreds. But this was also still Cronus.

That goofy fuckboy who had a business card for his soundcloud account. The dork who researched what themes popular music had. Obsessed with sex and looking cool and apparently John Travolta.

His jaw clenched as he looked up at the ceiling, fingers balled into fists at his side as he waited for your answer.

And you couldn’t find it in you to be even slightly afraid of him.

You took a step forward, cupping his cheek in your hand to turn his face toward you.

He froze.

“No one put me up to this, Cronus. It wasn’t my intention to upset you. I’m sorry. It was a bit of Earth pop culture humor that I didn’t realize would be a sore subject. I won’t bring Harry Potter or wizards and shit up again. I’m sorry I hurt you, I’ll try to be more mindful.” You brushed your thumb idly over a freckle.

His pupils dilated from narrow slits to wide saucers like a cat entering the silly zone. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, tension leaving his shoulders as a small smile formed on his lips. “Of course you wouldn’t….” He murmured, a deep clicking sound coming from his chest. “Such a good, perfect human.”

A perfect one-eighty from rage he’d been exuding just moments before. (Also completely new).

His eyes opened only partially.

You’d never seen anyone look quite so blissed out (except maybe after mind-blowing, extremely satisfying sex)

(Or when using one of those weird whisk-looking head massager things. Those were legitimately the most amazing invention humans had ever come up with. Better than most of the sexual encounters you’d had if you were completely honest).

You slid your hand down his cheek as you pulled away (You were pretty sure you saw him shiver but you weren’t too sure). “We good?”

“Yeah.” He gave you a droopy eyed smile and put his hand on your cheek, attempting to imitate your action, But his hand was sort of still wet and a little cold and it was weirdly intimate and kind of awkward.

Shying away you pointed to the remains of the mug in his other hand. “You should probably get that cleaned up a little. I got the movie all set up already.”

He just nodded and did as you instructed, plopping down on the couch next to you after washing up and hitting the light switch. Cronus didn’t put his head on your shoulder this time, but leaned back leg pressing up against yours as he put a cigarette (that he didn't light) between his lips . The movie was standard goofy fair: A pretty young, driven, career woman was sent to a small town to try to buy out some little bakery so the chain she worked for could open up a store on that property, but it was owned by a sweet old woman who was friends with a plainish, scruffy man wearing flannel. They bantered with lukewarm sexual tension like the corny B-list actors they were, reading off the bland cookie cutter formulaic script.

But Cronus seemed really into it, curling up against your side and without thinking, you wrapped an arm around him, hand mussing his hair. It was thick and very dense and surprisingly less damp than you expected. He snuggled up closer, That deep rumbly clicking returning…. Actually you’re pretty sure that was a troll happy noise. Like a purr or something. Which was, admittedly, kind of cute, unexpected and not as cute as like a cheetah purring, (it was definitely a lot more like an insect sound than a cat purr) but still cute nonetheless.

He fiddled with the cig a bit, alternating chewing on it and rolling it between his fingers... but he never lit it. You'd never actually seen him with a lit cigarette before. "Why don't you ever light them?"

He gave an inquisitive hum, looking over at you.

"Your cigarettes... you never light them. Why is that? Not that I'm encouraging you to smoke them because it's actually pretty gross, but like... typically you're supposed to light them up and suck that smoke down."

His fins flicked and he gave you a sheepish look, "I uh... I've tried to a few times, but it hurts my gills too much."

You gave him a nod.

"But I really dig the cool cat greaser aesthetic...." He trailed off when you ruffled his hair.

At the two thirds mark the actors kissed, decided that they were in love, and you gently ran your nails along Cronus’ scalp. He leaned into the touch. “You really thought I hated you?” You asked after a moment.

“Well, yeah.” He looked up at you with a lopsided grin. “I thought it was like a mutual thing.”

“You hate me?” That…. Unexpectedly hurt. You really thought he liked you, and yeah maybe the attention wasn’t wanted, but him hating you felt… weird.

“Not anymore,” He replied hastily. “But you were a huge bulge munch and you were so mean all the time. That’s why I really thought we could have a serious kissmesitude. Got some really pitch emotions going on.” Cronus butted his horns against your shoulder. “I mean sure, we wouldn’t a’ been able to get real violent like a lot of kissmesises because let’s be real, I’m way stronger than you are and I could probably accidentally break you in half in an actual fight which is kinda frowned at, but there was a lot of verbal jabs and like intellectual fights instead of physical fights and I was down to make that work. Hate is a very sexy emotion.”

“So like… a hate-fuck kind of thing?”

“Exactly. You gotta like your kissmesis, but you gotta hate them too. A rivalry. A sexy rivalry.”

“Like what Eridan’s been feeling toward John?”

He nodded, “But like I said, right now I definitely don’t hate you.” The smile he gave you was soft, and in the dim light you noticed that the rims of his irises seemed to faintly glow. The drama on screen drew his attention again. The woman was arguing with her boss on why the small bakery should stay the way it was, but the execs were adamant about furthering their capitalist agenda (ironic given Hallmark literally churned out dozens of the same exact movie for profit).

(Though you supposed all corporations did that: creating anticapitalist stories for capitalist profit).

"I could take you in a fight." You said after a while and he just snorted.

"Maybe before my last few molts. No offense, toots, but I can take and dish a serious pounding. In more ways than one," He looked back at you to give you a sleazy wink. "I c'n show you right now if you want."

You shoved him, but the angle was awkward and he was heavy as hell.

You weren’t really feeling any more sober than you had before the movie begun (probably because you’d had another shot’s worth of that objectively ~~awful~~ _delicious_ hot toddy that was just straight up flower flavored hot bourbon). Definitely not sober enough to drive at least. You tried to do the math as to when you’d be good but got lost halfway through.

(Math was stupid anyway).

The woman quit her job to work at the bakery at the last moment, just in time for Christmas, holding hands with the male love interest as they stared up at a giant Christmas tree saying something corny about the magic of Christmas. Ending on them laughing and kissing.

Cronus was silent for a while. “Magic is fake and stupid… but I guess the movie wasn’t wholly awful.”

You looked down at him, and your breath caught in your chest.

In the dark you could now see thin pale violet lines of light stretched along his skin in an intricate pattern. Freckles lighting up like dim stars in the night.

After a few moments he looked up at you, that same faint bioluminescent light illuminating his irises. It wasn’t anywhere near bright enough to fully make out his expression.

“Wanna watch another one? I mean… just to show me how much they’re basically very the same?” His V’s and W’s were nearly indistinguishable and you idly wondered if that was an accent kind of thing or just a him thing.

“I don’t see why not.” You murmured finally.

He selected another movie and leaned heavily against you, shifting to wrap an around your waist.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with this. You were friends (sort of). You cuddled with your friends all the time… or well… you used to back when you all lived close together and could hang out. Back before adulthood hit in full swing and people started getting married or moving in with their partners or moving away or just growing apart.

You weren’t lonely. At all. How could you be with your wonderful boyfriend (who was halfway across the country)? And your friends still texted you regularly even though none of you ever had enough overlapping time off to hang out.

You weren’t lonely… but god it felt nice to just physically exist in a space and be reminded of that fact by the pressure of another person against your skin.

The comfort was purely biological. (You knew this for a fact). Oxytocin was produced by physical contact (and yeah maybe you were a little touch starved you couldn’t lie about that), but perhaps it was a combination of the alcohol and the contact because you felt a lot more… quiet than you had in a while.

Not quiet in the physical sense, but like… _quiet_.

In the soul.

That was a thing, right?

You’re pretty sure that’s a thing.

Because that’s what you felt.

You ran your nails along his scalp.

The scruff of the main male character on the screen jogged your memory. “Yo, Cro, I just gotta ask: Who is that absolute _DILF_ in that big portrait upstairs?”

“ _What?”_

“You know, the giant picture of that scruffy DILF. Got like scars on his face, wind-swept hair. Like… y’know that fucking _DILF_. _The DILF._ ”

He shifted to give you a confused look. “You mean that picture of Dualscar?”

“Is he like your troll dad or something?”

Cronus wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You mean like that whole daddy thing from human pailvids? Didn't realize you were into that that sort of... shit... me n' Dualscar? Kitten, you're killin' me.”

"What the fuck's a pailvid?" You asked.

"You know... a pailvid? A concupiscent aid for when ya gotta let your bulge wiggle." When you just stared blankly at him he rolled his eyes and made a lewd gesture. "Videos for when you ain't got anyone fuckin' ya so you gotta fuck yourself. I know humans yank it, babe, you all have so many different porn sites it gets hard to keep track of 'em. Believe me, I've tried."

_Oh._

_Oh GOD._

You almost bowled over with your laughter. Your sides hurt. When you finally managed to quiet your laughing enough to be able to form words, you snorted out, "You watch human porn?" That threw you into another fit.

God when was the last time you'd laughed like this.

"N-no kink shaming intended," You gasped out between giggles. "You do you, just... you thought I meant like a daddy dom or some kinky shit when I said dad?"

"Well isn't that what it is? Because, baby, you can call me daddy anytime." He waggled his eyebrows but you just ruffled his hair a bit.

"No! And also _no._ " Your sides ached. "A dad is a male parent."

He just gave you a confused look.

"You know, someone who takes care of you while you're growing up... ideally. There's a lot of fluidity when it comes to human family units and unfortunately with our society the way it is-"

"Like a lusus?"

"I guess?" You shrugged. "That Dualscar dude your lusus or whatever?"

Cronus' expression soured. "You've already met my lusus, chief, and that bitter, drunk old bastard ain't it. He was _The_ _Orphaner_ for glub's sake. He went around _killing_ lususes."

"Oh shit...." You frowned, "That's awful."

"Tell me about it." He grimaced, returning his gaze to the TV. "Pops 'n Eridan practically worship that piece of whale refuse. I get it, the Orphaner was important. Dualscar was important... but for Glub's sake do we need pictures of him everywhere? Gl'golyb is gone. The Condesce is gone. We ain't even on Alternia no more. We don't gotta keep licking his goddamn boots." His fins drooped.

"Why do they care so much?" You asked.

He gave what you're pretty sure was a noncommittal hum, resting his head on your chest.

"Okay," You replied, and ran your fingers through his hair. "No pressure. Just a couple of cool cats watchin' stupid movies." His tension evaporated when you mimicked his cheesy faux-Brooklyn accent.

The woman on screen chatted with an old bearded man who was without question, Santa. He winked at her and gave her some trinket "on the house" that would teach her about the spirit of Christmas or whatever. You're pretty sure you saw this one before, but honestly even seeing _one_ meant you'd seen them all and you got pretty wasted whenever you watched these stupid things.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you before." He murmured after a while. You could feel his jaw move as he shifted around a bit.

"Apology accepted." Your other hand found his and you gave his head a reassuring pat. "I've never seen you that mad though.... Is that uhhhh....." You tried to form a cohesive thought in your alcohol addled brain, but gave up after a few moments deciding on mumbling out a stupid. "Do your friends do stuff like that a lot?"

Cronus kind of shrugged, "Not... Not like that, not a lot."

That sounded pretty fucking personal, and you probably shouldn't ask.

You _probably_ shouldn't ask.

You almost definitely shouldn't ask.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked. _Goddamnit_

The toll hummed, the clicking sound coming from him getting a little lower. Enough time passed that you figured that probably meant no, and you went back to half-paying attention to the movie, but not a moment later you felt him shift again. "Why are you doing this....?"

"What?"

"Bein' nice 'n shit." He mumbled into the fabric of the hoodie you wore.

"I'm drunk and it's the holidays. Do you want me to stop?" You replied curiously.

He shook his head in response. You could feel his jaw opening and closing like he wanted to say something but couldn't quite find the words. He stared at the screen, his voice small when he finally spoke again. "You ever felt like you don't belong?"

You felt your chest tighten.

That....

That hit just a little too close to home.

"Yeah."

He wrapped his other arm loosely around your abdomen. You probably shouldn't have let him, but you were comfortable and it wasn't like you were cheating. It was just a friendly cuddle session with one of your newest friends in his dude cavern.

Drunk.

In the dark.

Watching romantic movies.

Keeping it real.

Nothing wrong with that at all.

He twined his fingers with yours.

"I just don't get what I did to make everyone hate me so much. Even when I was a wriggler... I was supposed to have some big destiny or some shit but no one believed me because, let's face it, it was a big load a' crap. But even... even my own lusus doesn't like me and he was supposed to be the one who chose me from the caverns. Like I just can't help but feeling like I'm not... I'm not supposed to _be_ here. Which is _dumb_ as _fuck_ because where else am I supposed to be? There ain't anywhere else but here."

Something was scratching at the back of your mind, something that the Mailman had said about timelines and ripples.

"Everything just feels so...." Cronus trailed off, watching the woman on the screen buy a kid some hot cocoa or something. You settled further into the couch; your hand still combing through his hair. After a few minutes he still remained silent, though the soft clicking picked up again when you grazed by the bed of ones of his horns with your nail.

As the movie continued it was obvious that Cronus had no intention of continuing his sentence, and you honestly didn't know what to say and even if you did you weren't really sure it would help. What even constituted help anyway?

Besides, why should you even bother when you could watch the vague reflection of the movie off of his horns. God they were smooth. You'd never really noticed before. (Did he polish them? Was that something that trolls did?)

And before you could stop yourself you ran your finger down the edge of one, tracing from the tip down to the base.

Cronus went stiff.

"Sorry," You pulled your hand away. "Are they sensitive?"

"No." He breathed out. "Mostly just feels like pressure. You're good. You uh... you ain't gotta stop. Just wasn't expecting it 's all."

"Okay." You touched them again, admiring the texture on the pads of your fingers. He stiffened again before going limp against you.

Man you really hoped he wasn't getting off on this or something. But he wasn't moaning or anything so it was probably fine.

You managed to resist that stupid urge to lick and/or bite it. It wasn't sexual, honest to god. It was the same urge you got whenever you saw a cool rock or pretty dice or an exceptionally shiny leaf. You're pretty sure it would be exceptionally bad to have gone through with it this time though. Probably worse than when you were in a mineral shop looking at polished rocks. (Because Cronus was the horniest person you knew (pun intended) and there was no way he wouldn't take it the wrong way. Also licking people in general was pretty heavily frowned upon societally.)

His clicking increased in volume and you went back to idly scratching his scalp. "Y'know.... When I was younger I went on a roadtrip with my bro and we took a stop at the UFO museum in Roswell. I'm not sure if you've heard of it, but there was a huge thing about an alien ship crashing there and the government trying to cover it up, and it's a whole big thing. But I remember going through it and reading about how they picked up four bodies and flew them to Area 51. And it wasn't something that I really followed a lot growing up because I believed in aliens, yeah, obviously, but them coming and visiting us seemed far fetched." You snickered a little at that, combing through the hair of the alien who was... practically on top of you. (You should probably do something about that. Maybe... it wasn't like he was even doing anything though so....). "But that's neither here nor there, that's not really part of the story. Anyways, reports all mentioned that one of them was definitely alive, and it struck me as just... really sad, y'know? Like this little guy's so far from home and all of their friends are dead and no one can understand them and I dunno where I'm even going with this but... it was just sad."

You really had no idea why you'd even mentioned it. You'd thought about that alien before... actually pretty frequently for about a year or two. How scared it must have been.

And maybe Cronus would have reminded you of it except that his friends were alive. But he was still very far from Alternia even though he seemed to like it here, and well.

Maybe you were feeling that human emotion called friendship for him.

And maybe you kind of pitied this shuckboy.

He knocked his horns against your shoulder, "So _that's_ why you're bein' so nice to me. You got a guilty complex."

"Nah, I'm just a big softie. I didn't do anything to feel guilty about." You messed up his hair despite his protests.

Cronus looked up at you, mild irritation on his face. You reached out grasped his horn; His eyes widened immediately, but you just lazily wiggled his head back and forth. He let out a shaky breath when you let him go, staring at you for about half a minute before nervously turning his head back to the screen and settling against you again. His arms tightened around you.

It was strange how things worked out sometimes. You'd spent almost the entire party completely avoiding this asshole because you hated his guts and here you were in his basement hanging out, more relaxed than you had been in a while.

Cronus let go of you to stroke your cheek again in a downward motion, an odd expression on his face; Eyes wide as he stared at you. It was a little uncomfortable and a little too intimate despite the fact that you'd been tangled together for a while now. You put your hand on his and moved it to the top of your head instead. His brow furrowed. "Do... do you not like that?"

You hummed a little and shrugged. "It's uh... hmmm...."

He mimicked what you had been doing before by running his hands along your scalp. You couldn't help the little shiver that went up your spine. _God that felt good_ _._

And sure it was still kind of intimate, but you'd done this kind of thing with friends before so it wasn't like you were doing anything wrong. (When was the last time you'd done something like this though...).

(A lot longer than you cared to admit....)

(It had been a long while.... Probably since before you'd even started grad school.... Before you'd had your falling out with one of your besties.)

"Is this better?" He asked softly.

You nodded, relaxing into the touch, "Yeah."

Cronus grinned, ducking his and resting his forehead on your chest. The angle was a little weird with his arm partially obscuring your view of the movie. Something moderately interesting happened on screen and he stopped (you'd liked the touch a lot more than you were willing to admit), wrapping his arm around you again and settling in to watch the actors get into some sort of stupid fight.

"Do you want human drugs?"He asked after a while.

You made an inhuman noise.

"What?"

"Human drugs. Do you want some? I have some down here." He replied.

Now was your time to shine.

All of those anti-drug PSAs prepared you for this.

Just say _No,_ kids.

"What kind?" You asked instead. (Fuck the authorities.)

He shrugged, "Y'know, the human kind. I got it from some punk looking dealer.... It's literally called drugs. It comes in a can."

You snorted. "Dude I'm pretty sure that's just that shitty soda brand with a lot of caffeine."

"Oh."

"I hope you didn't pay a lot for it."

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh my god how much did you pay for it?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

You snorted. "Well now I absolutely _have_ to know."

"I'm rich so it's not like it broke me or anything...." He mumbled awkwardly, but at your insistent prodding finally said. "Two hundred human dollars...."

You're pretty sure you've never laughed so hard in your life.

What a dumbass.

Two hundred dollars for shitty soda.

You would hate him for being rich enough that spending that kind of money wouldn't kill you on the spot, but the situation was just too goddamn funny to do anything other than wheeze.

Your sides legitimately hurt.

And you thought to yourself... you might be starting to actually like this shuckboy.

Platonically.

In a very much friend way.

And not at all romantically because he was a sleazy asshole even if he looked incredible in tights (and you never thought about that at all. Ever. Obviously.)

"Jeegus, kitten, laughing at my misery like it's some kind of game.... So rude. I offer you human drugs which 's supposed to be a human bonding thing and you just laugh." Cronus pouted.

"Maybe next time do your research before you start buying drugs from random people. But at least now you have a funny story to tell people at parties." You tugged his horn lightly and you were pretty sure you heard his breath hitch.

His fingers curled against your side, and he shifted again. "My ancestor was executed for being an unfunny bastard and Meenah used to tell me that the clowns were coming for me next. I always thought I was untouchable because well... I was stupid. But I tried pretty hard after that anyway. Because if they could get the Orphaner then well...." The seadweller trailed off. "So thanks for laughin' I guess."

"That sucks, dude. I'm sorry." You scratched the bed of his horns and he practically melted.

"My other friends thought I should join the clown church because all I do is clown around though." You snorted at that one. "But... I know it sounds stupid because magic is fake as shit and even talking about it is for dumb wrigglers, but I think maybe.... Nevermind, it was a stupid thought I'll shutup."

"Dude it's literally just me. Don't even worry about shit. Who am I gonna tell? The fucking mycology department of like four people including everyone in the grad program?" Closing your eyes, you leaned back, listening to the background noise of the movie. "Besides. I already judged you pretty harshly before tonight, so I don't think you can get lower than that point."

"It was a stupid thought. Magic is fake anyways so it's not like it matters." He repeated.

“No, I’m pretty sure magic is real.” You replied after a moment. Half-serious, half-just to be contrarian. "It's real as hell and not fake at all."

"No it's not. Don't be an idiot." He shifted, head off your chest now. Probably looking at you, but you couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes. You were comfortable as all hell, and you were tired and still pretty drunk.

"People just misunderstand what magic is." His hair was soft but so dense as you ruffled it. You idly wondered what would happen if you pulled it, but he'd probably misinterpret that as something sexual knowing him. "It's definitely real."

"Kitten, look, magic ain't real. You're way too old to believe in that shit." He let go of you to gently pat you on the cheek with his cold hand. "I'm telling you this as uh... a friend."

You considered biting one of his fingers for a moment... but decided against it. "It's real." You murmured.

"It's not."

"Mmmmm pretty sure it is."

You could feel him fidgeting for a second, "It's fake... trust me. I um...." Cronus' voice was vary small as he said, "I don't want ya to be disappointed 'n find it out by like... the wrong way or somethin'."

"Cute." You couldn't help the grin forming on your lips or the faint warmth of your cheeks, and you opened one eye a crack to take him in.

God he was _heartrendingly_ pretty.

(Too bad he was such a tool all... _most_ of the time.)

He looked so somber and serious and concerned, his violet eyes watching you carefully with an expression that you could quite interpret in the low light... uncertainty maybe. Cronus' fins fluttered as you smoothed his hair back, fingers sliding down his face so you could trace a faint line of bioluminescence along his cheek.

You didn't have to have darkvision to know that he was blushing like mad as he leaned further into your touch. He closed his eyes as he mumbled out a, "You're real fuckin' weird, you know that right?"

You just patted his cheek; Then tentatively ran your finger along the edge of his fin noting how stiff the top was. Probably bone. But the membrane was soft and smooth and cool to the touch just like the rest of his skin. His lips parted slightly before he bit the bottom one. You grasped the edge of it between your fingers, not hard enough to pinch and it practically trembled underneath your touch. You rubbed a light circle along it with you thumb and his entire body shook.

 _Very_ interesting.

You ran the pad of your thumb along the flat plane back inward, his expression bordered the edge of pleasure, discomfort, and panic, his breath stuttering as you pressed down to test the flexibility of the thin skin. He was shivering almost violently, and you couldn't help but make the comparison of someone gently running the tip of their nail down the back of your neck to the small of your back.

 _Very, very_ interesting.

Wondering exactly how sensitive they were was definitely a lot more clinical than friendly of a thought though so before you allowed yourself to pinch down to see if it would actually hurt you withdrew your hand. You slung your arm leisurely over the back of the couch and returned to watching the movie. It was nearing the end, the characters must have already had their two-thirds mark _Oh, I'm in love_ moment because the woman was on the phone with her boss.

Cronus let out a shaky sigh after a while. His fins flicked and in your periphery you could see his eyes blinking open. He shifted, resting his head on your chest again, "You didn't have to stop...."

You hummed noncommittally, stretching out a little more. And then you felt his hand on your knee.

That was... a little more intimate of a gesture than you should allow.

Yeah that was... more than friendly.

But he was an alien... it was fine.

It probably wasn't a romantic gesture in troll culture.... And it wasn't like he was hurting anyone.

It was fine.

His hand moved up your thigh.

Okay maybe this wasn't just a friendly gesture. You needed to stop this right now.

Cronus shifted again facing you again eyes boring into yours, biting his bottom lip again, his knee up against your thigh as his hand came up to stroke your face and curl in your hair. He leaned in, burying his face in crook your neck. "Let me be your boyfriend tonight."

O-oh Fuck.

You could feel his cool breath against your skin as he whispered out. "I know you miss him... s-so we can pretend, right? It ain't cheating if you're callin' out his name. I'll be quiet. Promise."

You grabbed his horn. You needed to stop this.

Why weren't you stopping this?

His other hand rested on the small of your back, his nose bumping against your neck. "It- It'll be like using a toy. It's not cheatin' if you're using one, right?"

_Shit._

Your grip on his horn tightened, but you didn't move. How long had it been since you'd actually had a proper fuck...?

A thousand thoughts went through your head at once, scenarios playing out: Letting this happen... holding him close as he nipped and sucked at your neck; Shoving him back on the couch and riding him until he was a panting, moaning mess; The thought of getting down on your knees and seeing what exactly this bulge of his could do; His hands groping you; What those shark teeth would feel like if he bit down.

Y-You could blame it on the alcohol. (Pathetic.)

You swallowed, paralyzed, but he didn't attempt to go further than he already had.

It felt like an eternity, like the universe was waiting for you to do _something,_ but in all reality it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.

And a weight settled on your shoulders... something deeper, more metaphysical than the weight of the man practically on top of you. There was a _decision-_

No.

That wasn't quite right. It was heavier than that.

There was a **DECISION** in front of you. Something more important than you had any right to realize.

And you knew with every fiber of your being that _this_ was _**wrong** _ _._

You shoved him off.

You shoved him off of you with more strength than you realized you had and immediately stood up.

" _WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, CRONUS!?"_ You snarled at him . "I can't fucking believe you'd just- _eugh!_ _What is wrong with you!?_ _"_

You backed away, hands clenching and unclenching as you debated whether to beat the shit out of him or run. His eyes were wide and glassy as he looked up at you, mouth set in a grimace like he was experiencing the exact same hatred directed at himself that you felt toward him.

After the initial moment of shock, you turned and went for the door. It didn't matter where you went, it just couldn't be here (because truth be told, you were beyond disgusted with yourself that it took you so long to shove him off.... _(and even think about the possibilities)_ ).

"What's wrong with _me?_ Where the fuck do you even get off on that, doll." The anger in his voice was palpable. "Last time I checked, _you_ were the one getting all _handsy_ and gettin' _me_ all worked up. So don't go actin' like you're some kind a' saint!"

You swallowed.... _Oh._

 _"What the hell do you_ want _from me, kitten!?"_

_Oh Fuck._

You stopped in your tracks, hand hovering over the doorknob. You really should have asked before you'd started touching... _shit._ (And in hindsight the expressions he'd made when you'd been playing with his fins had perhaps been a little sexually charged....)

But it still didn't change the fact that at least verbally you'd made it abundantly clear up to that point that you had zero intention of sleeping with him. You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment before placing your hand on the door.

And you heard him make nearly the same sound as a deflating balloon, followed by him flopping on the couch. " _Please don't go._ "

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

" _Please don't."_ Cronus repeated, voice impossibly small. " _I don't want to be alone_."

You closed your eyes, cursing yourself for feeling bad for him. There was a reason he was alone. He _deserved_ to be alone. (No he didn't. No one deserved that.) And _god_ would you be lying if you said you didn't understand just what that felt like.

The isolation. The desperation. Everything clicked in a way that just hit a little too close to home.

Your hand held fast on the doorknob. You really should walk away.

"Look, I'm sorry for touching you inappropriately. It wasn't intended as a come-on... but what you did wasn't okay. At all." You replied after a moment.

" _I'm sorry...._ _Just please don't go...._ " He whimpered. " _I'm so tired of being alone...."_

 _Fuck_....

And in that moment you hated him because in that moment you _knew_ him. Maybe you couldn't fully get it because you were both aliens to each other, and maybe your emotions worked differently, but you knew him. And you knew you probably wouldn't be able to really hate him going forward.

You took a breath before speaking next, the words coming out heavily, "Sex isn't going to make you feel any less empty inside."

You really should walk away, but the thought of crossing their yard alone in the dark with that frankly terrifying mime walking around... and it wasn't like you could really drive home yet. With your luck you'd probably get pulled over and get a DUI; you couldn't afford that shit.

He was silent for a while, and you sighed, turning around. He was watching you with hopelessly lost eyes. "You don't know that."

His voice cracked and he licked his lips, looking back at the screen as the couple held hands and smiled and kissed, and he almost seemed to curl in on himself, eyebrows furrowing. He glared at you, face contorted into a snarl. "You don't know me! _You don't know_ _shit_ _!_ You're in a relationship and you still ain't gettin' any action. Why the hell should I listen to anything you have to say on anythin'?"

You want to be mad at him. You know you should be mad at him. But all you could see when you looked at him was an animal with a wound that never healed right and you'd just prodded it. You sighed and leaned against the door, the credits rolling on the screen reflecting in his glasses. "I do know. Trust me. I know you a lot better than you think."

Cronus winced, eyes blinking very quickly like he was trying to stave off tears, anger melting into that scared, helpless expression that tugged uncomfortably at your heart strings and you shoved your hands in your pockets because fuck it... where else would you even go? (And the thought of leaving right now... felt _wrong_ too).

"Cronus, I really want to be your friend. I can't offer you more than that."

"But I-"

You cut him off. "This isn't some sort of Hallmark movie where we fall in love by the miracle of Christmas magic. I need you to understand that. Okay?"

His fins drooped.

"I-...." He looked at you again, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Y-yeah. Okay. Fine. Just... please don't go yet."

You nodded your head and motioned for him to sit on the far side of the couch while you sat on the other. "And honestly, telling someone that they can call out a different name during sex isn't fair to you.... Sex isn't worth it if you have to devalue yourself. You should have a little more respect for yourself than that."

He stared at you peculiarly but didn't respond. You didn't really expect him to, but a confirmation that he understood what you were saying would have been nice. "Do you wanna watch another movie?" He asked after a short while.

"Sure," You replied, "But I think it would be for the best if we didn't go with anything romantic." He let out a nervous laugh.

Without that stupid, smug grin on his face, he really did look a lot like Harry Potter.... And while you knew you had promised not to bring it up, you couldn't help but asking, "Do you wanna watch Harry Potter? I know you have some like hardcore hatred for magic and what-not but like... I mostly just want to show you that I wasn't trying to be mean or anything... and it's kind of silly and cute. Although given JKR's descent into rabid TERF territory it does make watching it more complicated, y'know? Like it was something so important to me growing up but the author being an actual horrible person kind of changes the way it hits because I don't want to support her and her whole gender is biological thing when it very much isn't. Sex isn't even fully biologically based. I mean humans technically have a total of seven different sexes if you look just at the genotype, and we're not even getting into karyotype tests because who has time for that far of a delve, and even then phenotypical expression can vary wildly from person to person-"

Cronus was looking at you like you had two heads and was incredibly amused by it. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I asked you to give me a lesson in human biology." But he was grinning with those stupid shark teeth of his and he didn't look like he was on the verge of crying anymore.

"Obviously I'm not gonna make you watch it because you have some god-tier level vendetta against even the word magic, but... I guess I just wanted to show you I wasn't trying to make fun of you haha...." You rubbed the back of your neck self consciously but he gave an exaggerated huff and roll of the eyes.

"Fine... we can watch your stupid magic movie but only because you're so desperate for it." You couldn't tell if he really was exasperated with you, or if he was just kidding. But you knew once you showed him he would Understand why you would make the comparison.

You grabbed the remote from its spot in the middle of the couch and put it on. Cronus watched the opening with a set grimace as though he were steeling himself for a fight, but he wasn't complaining.

You just leaned into the corner of the couch, curling into a ball, sinking into the throw pillows. His frown lessened as the movie actually began to play, eyes glancing furtively from the screen back to you as though he were waiting for some signal as to how he should react... or nervous at getting caught trying to look at you. Maybe both.

And then they zoomed in on the scar and he went stock still, the expression on his face was difficult to place, but it had a certain weight behind it. He reached up to touch his own, lips pursed as he watched the screen intently. He flinched as Harry was shoved around, face setting into an almost morbidly curious expression... the kind that people wore when they saw something distasteful but couldn't bring themselves to look away.

Cronus remained uncharacteristically silent, same stern look on his face until the characters began to speak of the Dark Wizard, _He Who Must Not Be Named,_ and how he had given Harry that scar.

"Turn it off."

You complied, turning the tv off, leaving you in complete darkness except for the faint glow of his bioluminescence that seemed to pulsate. "You okay?"

He went silent once more for a long while and you wished you could make out more of him in the darkness, but he did seem to... maybe shake his head? You weren't fully sure.

"Who the fuck wrote this?"

You raised an eyebrow. "JKR... an awful person. I'm pretty sure I was just tell-"

"How the hell did they know?"

"It's a story... she made it up. That's kind of how stories work."

" _No_ . You don't- it- it's not...." There was an edge to his voice like he was on the verge of a panic attack. "That's - " He breathed deeply, " _That's_ _..._."

"The scar, the great wizard destiny, th- the.... That's...." His voice petered off, but you could still hear his arrhythmic breathing.

And you felt something... shift in the atmosphere; as though the air itself were thicker (even though empirically you knew that was very unlikely), but it was... unsettling and you didn't like not being able to see so you turned the TV back on and put it on the main menu.

His fins were completely pressed down and back, folded into little more than stiff, little crinkles at nearly a flat angle. His eyes wide as he stared ahead, faintly lilac globules of water pooling at the corner. He sniffed a bit, blinking before forcing a smile and opening his mouth as if to say something then closing it immediately as little more than a faint, distressed noise escaped his throat.

Wow.

You were just really fucking this whole friendship thing up weren't you.

Friends weren't supposed to make friends feel like crap or ruin their night.

 _Especially_ at crispmass- ( _Fuck) Christmas_ parties.

You got up, moving to the corner section (the most perfect section of every couch ever) right behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He seemed to flinch but didn't move away, and you pulled him into a hug. A solid hug. Not the kind that was so tight it felt your ribs might break (but something told you you probably couldn't hug him tightly enough to do that anyway), but the sort of of embrace that anchored you to the material plane, to the moment, because maybe it wasn't the same for trolls, but you knew it was something that worked for you. (You really hoped it wasn't a turn on or a come on in troll culture though because heavens knew that would probably just make it worse and that really wasn't your intention, but you knew the saying.... The road to hell was paved with them and boy had you been laying down that asphalt all night).

He froze. Not like a deer in the headlights or a kid finding out they had stage fright as soon as they saw the crowd watching them for the first time, but like a grape dropped in a vat of liquid nitrogen. Rigid, fragile, likely to shatter if you so much as touched it. So still you weren't fully sure his heart hadn't ceased to beat; Even his breathing had stopped. And an overwhelmingly sad thought flitted through your brain.

_Had he ever experienced this before?_

_Had he ever received a positive touch in his life?_

(After all, troll culture seemed to value strength over everything else. His entire household apparently worshiped someone they call The Orphaner who went around killing people for some god-awful reason).

Your arms tightened around him.

_Had Eridan?_

After what felt like an eternity Cronus finally melted, leaning back heavily into you. He couldn't hug you back because of the angle (which was probably for the best), but he placed his hands on your own and gripped them tight enough to be sort of uncomfortable but not tight enough for you to voice that discomfort. He let out a shaky exhale. You stayed like that for a moment before releasing him and settling more comfortably in the corner, and you gave one of his horns a single tug, pulling him back to you, his head resting just below yours so his horns weren't digging into you. Your arms snaked around his midsection.

His breathing returned to normal but his heart (hearts? honestly you weren't sure) was pounding hard enough you could feel it, but even that settled after a while.

And finally he spoke. "Promise you won't think I'm crazy?"

"Promise."

"When I was a grub I used to have... dreams.... But they were- I always felt like they were more than dreams because it was always the same setting: Of a purple world where if I looked up, the inky void above it stared back and whispered things to me. The same purple block. The same... the same angels. But these weren't like human angels, they were like giant slither-beasts with wings. And they would tell me things. About how the universe would die... and how I was supposed to somehow prevent it. Because I was going to become powerful one day, more powerful than even the Dark Magician 'n his minions set on destroying and consuming everythin', and I was going to be the greatest wizard in all of spacetime."

"They told me that I was the only one who could. It was my destiny as the Bard of Hope and the Dark Magician knew this too, that's why he sent his witch to kill me when I was a tiny grub. But she couldn't and left me with this scar instead. I know it's fake. I do. It was just some stupid shit I dreamed up when I was in stewing in pupation juice. But it felt so real.... Sometimes it felt more real than my life after crawlin' out a' my cocoon. There's a lot I don't really remember as a wiggler, but I remember a flash of light and the pain in my forehead. That story was just somethin' I made up to make sense of it or whatever, I know, but I wanted so hard to believe it was true." He trailed off, voice uncharacteristically wistful.

And maybe it was just the story but... you felt a jolt of excitement course through your gut. You weren't sure why it was so exciting. Maybe it was just because your new friend was opening up to you and it felt _good_ when people were comfortable enough with you to confide things. _(But not usually exciting. Not_ _really_ _.)_

"But I was a stupid kid, y'know? And I just kept believing and believing even after the dreams stopped and my scar stopped hurting. My lusus was so convinced I was a lost cause that he went and adopted another fuckin' kid! Do you know what that's _like_? And no matter what he'd do I just kept thinking, _'It's okay because one day I'm gonna save the entire universe and be a big_ coddamn _hero_ _and then everyone'll see_ _'_ and- and I'm just glad that people managed to knock some sense into my thick pan-protector before I did somethin' stupid I guess...." He certainly didn't sound glad. "Glad they taught me that magic is fake 'n dumb as shit...." A bitter laugh escaped his throat. "Imagine me... _me_ a stupid wriggler being a big-shot magic wizard."

You hugged him a little closer, and picked your words very carefully. "It's not stupid, and you're not stupid for believing in magic...especially as a kid."

A shudder ran through him, and you rubbed soothing circles into his sides.

You wanted something.... _Needed_ something from him, but you didn't quite know what it was. A tugging, an urging at the edges of your mind that.... didn't quite settle right.

" _I_ still believe in magic, and I'm an adult who's already got two degrees under their belt...."

"For glub's sake, Kitten, I know you're tryin' to make me feel better, but you're just makin' yourself look dumb."

"I'm serious, Cronus." Your voice was firm. "Maybe the type of magic where you wave a wand and all your problems are solved isn't real, but that doesn't mean magic in and of itself doesn't exist."

He broke out of your grasp, sitting up and turning to face you, " _It's not._ "

"Cronus...."

He let out a huff, sneer twisting his lips. "And you know, Kitten. You know what the real fuckin' cherry on top was? Somethin' those stupid angels whispered to me. Something no one could ever know."

_This._

"And like some sort of dumbass, even after I stopped believing, I still listened to their stupid rules."

A pang of excitement ran through you and that insistent scratching at the back of your mind, and you felt sick to your stomach.

"They told me his name. And they said that if anyone ever said it the Dark Magician would wake up and destroy the universe."

_Say it._

"Magic ain't real and I can prove it."

_Say it._

The excitement that seemed to threaten to light you on fire was overshadowed by a wave of abject terror. _Sumthin rly Big w_ _/_ _a_ _capital B cld b happenin 2nite now i dunno wat that sheeet iz yet but i can see dis timeline divergin n gettin all kindz a fx_ _x_ _xked up ya dig?_

"Cronus, I don't think you should say it." You swallowed thickly.

"Why not? It's not like anything'll happen."

 _T_ _here are a lot of outside influences trying to get in_ _._

It was like a ringing in your ears getting louder. ( _Why were you so excited?)_

"I just think it's a really _really_ bad idea." You sort of wanted to vomit, but it felt like you were rooted to this spot. Like someone stipulated that you be here at this moment in time.

And then it hit you. There was something in here. There was something trying to claw its way inside of you and maybe you were just having a panic attack but this... there was something about this that felt _different._

"Yeah, well I have bad ideas all the fuckin' time, chief. And it's my knowledge, I can do whatever the hell I want, kitten."

 _It felt like the universe demanded that you sit_ _t_ _here and listen._

He let out another bitterly amused huff. "It was-"

But universal imperatives were stupid. (And you really hated this feeling).

You practically tackled him as you slapped your hands over his mouth, and it felt like something burst in your mind. But the scratching stopped. The excitement faded.

"Don't." You whispered, shaking your head solemnly. "Just... don't."

Your eyes implored his, they were glassy again, wide with shock. He sat stock still. Something heavy still hung in the air... but it was no longer oppressive.

You sort of just stared at each other for a long while before he cracked, the water pooling on his eyelashes finally spilling over.

"Are you still going to say it?" You asked hesitantly.

Cronus just shook his head and you removed your hands from his mouth, smoothing down his hair again and tentatively wiping away some of the wetness with the sleeve of his hoodie. He sniffed a bit and batted your hand away, haphazardly rubbing his palms over his eyes. His cheeks were still a little stained when he was finished, glasses smudged with tears and finger prints.

"You okay?"

He nodded.

It felt like you were alone again... or rather... alone together again. Whatever had gotten into you before felt like it was gone, and you were simultaneously exhausted and terrified and you kind of wanted to curl into a ball and sleep forever; but he looked even worse than you felt and if you were being honest you kind of wanted to wrap yourself around him and maybe protect him which was stupid because you're pretty sure he was a lot tougher than you.

You settled for patting his shoulder.

"Why are you like this?" He grumbled after a moment, burying his head in his hands. "You don't have to pretend like you believe in that shit...."

"I'm not pretending. Maybe it isn't true... maybe it is something you just dreamt up when you were a kid... but I just have a really bad feeling about it. And is it worth even fucking around to find out if it is or not? It's almost crispmass and it would suck if the world ended right now."

Cronus laughed a little at that, finally peeking at you through his fingers.

He reached out to pet your cheek again, it was still a little tacky from the tears. You were too tired to move or complain though. And he seemed to enjoy it because he let out a little giggle when you didn't stop him.

(You really hoped he wasn't getting off on this....)

You should probably ask.

"This isn't like... a sexual thing, right? Like you're not getting your rocks off on this, right? You're not like... getting a stiffie or anything...?"

"What? No... this is like one hundred percent pale 'n shit right now." His smile was soft.

"Isn't that the term you use for sex? I'm pretty sure you've used the word pail for sex." You still didn't move to stop him though. It actually was kind of nice even if his hands were cold. (And this was definitely not cheating territory).

"Hmmm they do kind of sound the same.... That's pail as in buckets which I know you aren't down right now but if you ever want to fill one up with me I'd be into it. Or uh... I know humans can be kind of wild... like maybe um... f-fill _you_ up or something haha...." He cleared his throat, you could see the violet flush all the way to his fins, and he refused to meet your eyes. "Anyways.... I mean pale like... conciliatory ? Instead of concupiscent. Like soft emotions and stuff. Overlappin ' pale and pail is kind of... not something we usually do. .. even though it's not exactly _bad_ or anything. " He fidgeted even more at that, his other hand scratching at the back of his scalp. "Like you're not _supposed_ to... but what's - what's the harm in it.... It's not _wrong_ to maybe feel...." He shrugged.

"Not that this is concupiscent or anythin'." He amended quickly. "Papping isn't part of pitch or flush relationships. Not that they couldn't be if you were into it or somethin' but that's a lot of blurring and-"

Cronus was now rambling and you couldn't quite follow, but he was getting more and more agitated with each word, running his hands through his hair.

"Hey," You said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "How about we crack open some of those drugs you were talking about?"

He stopped and looked at your thumb rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder and relaxed. "Yeah, lemme go get them."

He was such an asshat sometimes but... not all the time (and part of you felt like you should hate him for being such a jerk who kept pushing boundaries, but he was sort of growing on you. Like a one of those big dogs that wouldn't stop barking, and sometimes shit the carpet if he was ignored for too long, and no matter what would not stop jumping up to lick your face that was annoying but still managed to be awfully cute).

(And as long as you weren't having sex or making out or anything like that it wasn't cheating or anything. You were just friends. And even though you you were pretty sure he wanted to sleep with you, that was just normal Cronus. He wanted to fuck anybody who would have him).

He came back to the couch with a six pack of Drug brand soda. Graciously you accepted it (you were feeling pretty tired and you were kind of hoping the caffeine would help at least a little). It tasted like off-brand redbull that was entirely too fizzy and sweet, but it wasn't awful. Definitely not the worst thing you'd had tonight. (That failure of a hot toddy was absolutely repugnant).

Cronus leaned against you again, head resting on your shoulder as his free hand came up to pet your face again. "The real crispmass ain't for a few nights, right?"

You nodded.

"Do you wanna come over then too? Since it's supposed to be about like togetherness and people who care about you 'n all... and your boyfriend ain't around. You said it yourself... nobody should be alone on crispmass."

"Cronus, I really don't think that's a good idea. I mean...."

You swallowed, unsure of how to tactfully move forward when your phone rang giving you the perfect out. The ringtone was unmistakably the one you'd set for Phil and you told Cronus, "Sorry I have to take this real quick."

You nudged him off, standing on unsteady legs and moving to the bathroom and closing the door before picking up. "Hey, Phil."

"Hi, babe."His deep voice came through the speaker putting you simultaneously at ease and filling you with something a little uncomfortable that felt a bit like indegestion. "Just wanted to check up on you and see if you'd gotten home yet."

"Oh, I actually haven't left yet." You replied, checking the time. It was a little after eleven... the party would be wrapping up soon... most people would be starting to leave. "I'm still a little drunk, and I uh... just had some drugs."

"Look at you cutting loose. And here I thought I was the partier in this relationship." He chuckled a bit.

"I know how to have a good time... sort of." You sniped back, but it was lighthearted.

"Says the workaholic. When was the last time you've done anything fun? Halloween?" Phil teased, but you couldn't help but wince. He wasn't exactly wrong. You did have a tendency to put work and your degree first....

You just laughed a little in response.

"Is it at least the good kush?" He asked after a few seconds.

"Always."

"I'm glad you're having fun." His voice was earnest and something settled in the pit of your stomach. "Really. I was sort of hoping we could have a spontaneous date night... the fam's all out of the house tonight visiting my uncle so no interruptions, but it seems like you're kind of tied up. Unless you wanted to maybe get an uber or something? Or even facetime... I haven't seen your cute face in a hot minute."

You bit your lip, "Sorry, I'm kind of with friends right now."

"I completely understand. Don't get too high though... I wanna make sure you get home safe."

"Y-yeah." You weren't lying. Caffeine was technically a highly addictive stimulant.... Drugs was full of it. Sure maybe it wasn't exactly a party drug material but....

"I'll let you get back to the party. I love you."

You froze up, jaw working without a sound, and he let out a frustrated huff.

"You know Christmas is coming up... a little verbal present would be kind of nice."

You swallowed, willing your voice to work. "You know I care about you. A lot. I just...."

There was silence on the other end. Phil's irritation was practically palpable. "I'm trying to be patient. I really am. I get that you have difficulty with it... but.... Fine, whatever. It's fine. Just... enjoy the rest of the party okay?"

 _I'm sorry._ Was what you wanted to say, but you just managed out, "I will. I... cherish you."

Phil let out a tired, but fond chuckle. "Take care of yourself, babe. Stay safe."

"You too."

The call ended without much fanfare, and that sort of uneasy feeling returned.

But it wasn't like you were doing anything wrong. There was no reason for you to feel guilty about anything. You weren't _doing_ anything.

You looked yourself over in the mirror, noticing a mostly empty bottle of Jack perched on the shelf.... You really shouldn't. It was a bad idea. It was an awful idea... but you reached for it and took a swig. No more than a shots worth... just something to.... (You really didn't want to finish that thought).

You put it back and drank some water from the tap to get the taste out of your mouth and because you knew if you didn't you'd be in for a nasty hangover tomorrow morning. After about five minutes (you had checked your phone to make sure), you dried off your hands and exited.

You looked at Cronus who was most definitely watching you, but the reflection of the tv screen in his glasses obscured his eyes. God this was awkward.... But you weren't gonna lie... you'd been having kind of a nice time, and you really didn't want to leave because honest to god the thought of walking through their yard when there was that creepy mime.... (You were still a little shaky from that overwhelming feeling of something alien worming through your mind too).

You went back and sat back down next to him. "Sorry about that." He just gave you a lazy smile.

"Don't even worry about it, chief. I hope you told him about my threesome idea though. We gonna make a Cronus sandwich?" He waggled his eyebrows and you shoved him.

"Gross."

He just placed a hand over his heart, "Worried he'd leave you for me? The most gorgeous and sexy man in the entire world?"

You just snorted, scooting back over to the corner portion of the couch. "Something tells me you two aren't each others' type." Pretending not to notice the way his face fell, you continued, "You're very different people. Do you, uh, wanna watch another movie? If I'm not like... imposing on your hospitality by still y'know... being here?"

 _Fuck_ you really should not have had that Jack.... You were probably only an hour or two from legally being able to drive before you'd drank it.

He snickered. "Kitten, if you were imposin' I'd let you know. Very vocally and bodily. And yeah I'm down to watch another movie that's not about magic or anythin' stupid like that."

"You got it, chief," You replied with a smile. "Something unromantic and unmagical."

You put on Home Alone, leaning back and pulling Cronus to you again. He offered no resistance as he settled against you, horns on either side of your neck as you rested your chin on his head. His rumbling clicking returned as you wrapped your arms around him.

God he was fucking heavy... and his hands were cold as he twined his fingers with yours (but it was kind of nice considering they kept it a billion degrees in their home and you were getting kind of hot anyways).

 _This_ was nice.

"So what'd Phil want?"

"That's none of your business."

You couldn't see him but you knew he was probably pouting. "Fine... jeegus kitten. If I didn't know any better I'd say everything ain't as peaches and dairy as-"

"Good thing you don't know better then." You interrupted him, giving a sharp tug on his horn.

He let out a strangled "Y-yeah good thing, chief."

"And for your information, everything is just fine with me and Phil, so don't get any ideas."

"You got it, boss." He breathed out.

You released his horn and ran a hand through his hair. "Good boy." Cronus shivered in response, taking a sharp breath in. You went back to watching the hijinks of Kevin on the screen and Cronus leaned heavily against you. "We're not gonna discuss my relationship, okay?"

He just nodded. There was blissful silence from him as you both settled in, watching it together. His fingers fidgeted against yours, tapping against your knuckles lightly.

About twenty minutes into the movie he spoke again. "You really think magic's real?"

That threw you for a loop, and you took a moment to gather your thoughts.

"I mean you're supposed to be smart 'n shit, and your way too old to believe in that sort of stuff...." He mumbled.

"Well..." You started, "I don't believe in waving a wand around and casting spells from nothing, but yeah. Magic in and of itself is real."

He didn't respond.

"Okay so... a sunset is caused by the refraction of light as the sun moves out of view and the light has to pass through more levels of atmosphere to reach your eyes so it looks red and orange and yellow because those are the longest wavelengths and travel best through it. How is that not magical? Or even your body.... You're alive. There are trillions of cells making up your body each with its own set of purposes and they do it. So many things can go wrong, and sometimes they do, but for the most part those trillions of cells operate and live and grow and die and are replaced continuously and your body just... continues to function as a single entity. Proteins bend and fold and carry different molecules to different parts of the cell. Chemical reaction generate electricity powerful enough to keep you running. You're constantly processing information from the environment around you and reacting to it and growing and learning even though there are trillions of little bitty discrete cells in every inch of your body (I'm sort of mostly assuming that because you're a multicellular organism that most of the functions are the same).... And even if you don't want to look at just biology, look at technology. Right now we're watching on a glass screen a bunch of pixels running on a program reading a file that it downloaded from the internet from some server miles and miles away via wireless communication that has to be interpreted into electricity and run down wires and communicate with satellites."

"I hate to break it to you, kitten, but that ain't magic. That's just normal stuff."

"That's only because you're limiting your purview of magic to something minuscule and plebian. Show this kind of stuff to someone from two hundred years ago and they'd burn you at the stake for being a witch. Because even though we can replicate and explain it, just because we have names for it... it's still magical as fuck, dude. Magic is all around us, you just gotta widen what your concept of magic is." You paused for a breath and pull your thoughts in from flying away and scattering, "And... and even speaking is just vibrating the molecules around you.... And we know that vibrations are what control a lot of different matter so... making them vibrate a specific way could end very poorly. So... I think it's a really good idea to never say that name out loud. Just... just in case. Okay?"

"For you? You got it, babe." He whispered back.

"But yeah... I just think that magic vs science is just kind of a flawed concept because they're kind of the same thing... y'know?"

You were met with more silence and you werent sure if it was him being thoughtful or just respectful enough to not call you an idiot, but his chilly hands tightened around yours and held them close to his stomach.

"That's.... Cod you're real fuckin' weird."

"Maybe, but I'm pretty okay with that." You mumbled out through a yawn.

Man you were really getting tired.... You should probably drink more soda, but you'd left it in the bathroom and Cronus was heavy on top of you (and you were pretty comfortable) and you didn't feel like making him get up to get your drink.

After a while he mumbled out something that sounded like, "Is it because I'm a troll?"

You let out an inquisitive hum for clarification but were just met by a quick "nevermind."

On screen Kevin spoke with his neighbor for the first time as they discussed fear and Cronus mentioned something about really liking the harmonics of religious architecture. You closed your eyes, just listening to the sound of his voice as he spoke about music and sawtooth waveforms and what sort of cool vibes he could create in an acoustic environment like that.

And between the pad of his thumb rubbing softly over the back of your hand and the softness and excitement of his voice as he rambled and the warmth of the room, a thought nestled itself at the edge of your mind.

_There was nowhere you'd rather be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The description of the Christmas party outfit is based off of a lovely drawing by punpunichu (I don't know how to link stuff here... one day i may figure it out)
> 
> Also feel free to find me on tumblr I'm @pumpkinofthedale :3


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